


The valley where waters fall

by Taliken



Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Amnesia, F/M, M/M, Mental Instability, Slow Burn, Temporary Amnesia, also they’re not the amnesia patients, but I’ll provide one at some point, but they’re elves so they got time I guess?, grumpy Glorfindel, like veeery slow, neither are Elrond or Lindir, poor erestor, surprise amnesia patient I guess?, you’ll need a map to keep track of the OCs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-31
Updated: 2020-06-26
Packaged: 2021-01-13 10:42:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 37,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21242777
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taliken/pseuds/Taliken
Summary: “Bruinen”, loud waters, is what they call the river circling Imladris in one of the valleys. There Lord Elrond’s house lies, refuge for all those driven out of their homes during the war, and now also home to Lord Glorfindel, the balrog-slayer. Erestor loves the valley, yet he hates the river with a passion as deep as that with which Airondis loves it – Airondis who appears to know Glorfindel, although he has only just arrived …





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Goldbeere](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Goldbeere/gifts).
  * A translation of [Wo laute Wasser fallen](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1434514) by [Goldbeere](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Goldbeere/pseuds/Goldbeere). 

> This is a translation of a story I have been beta-reading for many years now, and I believe it merits more attention than it has been getting so far. Therefore I decided to do my bit by translating it into English. If you like the story, please give the author your love, and if you like my translation, I won’t say no to a little bit of love either ;-)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before you start reading, I just want to let you know that whatever comments you leave on this translation will be passed on to the original author, Goldbeere, even if it’s a complaint about the quality of the translation ;-) As a translator, I obviously have no influence whatsoever on the story arc, but as since I’m also the beta-reader of the original German story, I’ll make sure to pass on whatever comments you may have about that as well.  
That said, Goldbeere and I very much encourage all kinds of feedback and thank you very much for leaving it!

Fierce.

It was the first word on Erestor’s mind when the blond warrior dismounted his horse. Granted, a certain amount of fierceness simply came with the territory of being a warrior, at least in his experience. Even more so when the warrior in question had slain a balrog. And yet – comparing what the songs had to say about Lord Glorfindel of the House of the Golden Flower to the man now in front of him, Erestor could only reach one conclusion:

He was disappointed.

Which was all the worse because Elrond chose this moment to step forward and greet the new arrival. “Lord Glorfindel, it is our honour and priviledge to welcome you here in Imladris. I am Elrond, Lord of this valley, and this is Lord Erestor, my right hand. He will make sure to help you settle in.”

Almost unconsciously, Erestor pulled up his shoulders when a cold glance was cast in his direction, but he quickly straightened once more. The man had just finished a long and likely arduous journey, it was hardly surprising he wasn’t overjoyed at having to endure formalities. Erestor cleared his throat. “Lord Glorfindel, may I too express -”

The cold gaze left him and turned toward the horse, which nuzzled its owner’s face enthusiastically.

This was not how they had imagined things to go.

☼

They were all seated around their usual table when he finally and reluctantly made his way to the Hall of Fire. Ferithil lost no time in waving him to an empty slot once she had spotted him, and Erestor obliged, his teeth gritted. The moment of truth had finally arrived. He would have to recount the day’s events to all of his friends – and if he wasn’t terribly mistaken, half of Imladris was here as well. He couldn’t recall having seen so many people in the hall in recent times, and the curious, excited eyes on him spoke of everyone’s expectations.

“So?”

Eager and urging him on, just like the faces around him. Sighing, Erestor sank into the seat beside Ferithil and put his chin into his hands. “His hair’s exactly as expected.”

Nonplussed silence was his answer.

Only a moment later everyone had started laughing. “Well, at least we now know exactly what Erestor likes best about our new arrival!” Lindir snorted, and Erestor made a face.

“All things considered, it wasn’t hard to settle on that, considering his hair was the only bright aspect about him. The rest of him preferred grim.”

Silence fell as Erestor’s audience processed his words. Questioning looks were exchanged, until someone finally asked. “What do you mean? Is he not Lord Glorfindel, the balrog-slayer?”

He chose his next words with care. “If he is the Lord Glorfindel we know from the songs and tales, he’s doing his utmost not to live up to expectations.”

He felt a stab of bad conscience at bad-mouthing an Elf he hadn’t known for even a full day. But Erestor was terribly disappointed himself – especially because of the blatant disinterest Lord Glorfindel had shown his surroundings. He had spent maybe two moments surveying his chambers, the furnishing of which Erestor had overseen personally, before he had turned around and went back the way he had come. Erestor had hardly known how to react, and when he manned up enough to ask, the answer had consisted only of one word: “Asfaloth.”

The horse had been well cared for. Of course it had. It had not seemed to make any difference to Lord Glorfindel. Erestor had stood to the side while the Lord rustled and bustled about, until he had finally deigned to ask whether Erestor did not have anything better to do. Caught off-guard, Erestor had barely managed to stammer that it was his duty to acquaint their guest with the valley and its inhabitants.

That had garnered him a snort, and Erestor himself had retreated into angry silence. He did have other things to look after. It was just that these had been deemed less important than helping Lord Glorfindel to settle in. But Erestor couldn’t simply turn around and walk away; Elrond had insisted he stay close in case Glorfindel had any needs or questions.

So Erestor had stayed. Until evening rolled around and there was nothing left but to follow Glorfindel back to his chambers, and then come here.

He sighed, returning to the present, only to see that the others were still staring at him expectantly. “What should we make of that?” Lindir asked, obviously confused.

Erestors conscience won out. He wouldn’t say any more – and perhaps the Lord’s bad mood would be gone by tomorrow. He forced himself to smile. “Never mind, it’s alright. Forget what I said. The journey tired him out, and we need to respect that. I’m not even sure if he’ll be in attendance tomorrow.”

“But the feast is held in his honour!” Ferithil protested immediately. “He’s a lord and a warrior, how exhausting can the journey have been?”

“Oh, so you think our lords cannot feel exhaustion?” Lindir’s smile took the edge of his mocking words and laughter ensued while Ferithil rolled her eyes and pushed a glass toward Erestor.

“Well, then tell us at least what he thought of his rooms. You took such pains to furnish them.”

Erestor considered his options and cleared his throat. “I believe he was too tired to take much note of the furniture.”

“He must’ve lost quite a bit of his edge since killing the balrog!” someone shouted from the back, and the laughter returned. Erestor smiled as well and only noticed Lindir’s searching gaze when he coincidentally happened to look in his direction. Quickly he stared into his glass and then drained it.

“I think it’s time for me to pick up Airondis. Thank you for the beer.”

Hopefully he was right, and Glorfindel’s shortness today had really been due to exhaustion.

“But Erestor!” Maethbron protested, pulling him back to the bench, aided by Ferithil.

“Dearest Erestor, Airondis can surely wait until you’ve told us a little more. She’ll understand that you needed to inform us of all the details. So. What did he ask?”

_‘Nothing,’_ Erestor wanted to say, _‘Nothing at all.’_

His mouth replied, “He asked about the stables. He seems to love his horse.”

“What kind of horse is it?” someone shouted and he wondered for a moment whether that was really that important.

“It’s white. A beautiful animal.”

“Doroner, you know you shouldn’t ask Erestor about horses! It’s a miracle he can tell them apart by colour!” Lindir had once more managed to garner laughter and Erestor tried to laugh along and ignore the discrepancy between Lindir’s words and his eyes.

“It’s a stallion, his name is Asfaloth,” he added, and since he was at it, he also provided a detailed description of Glorfindel’s attire. He shouldn’t have been surprised that it immediately sparked off animated debates about where the clothes might be from, and whether they were the same ones Glorfindel had worn at the time of his death.

It really shouldn’t have surprised him.

He startled when a hand landed on his shoulder. “Erestor, I think you should really pick up Airondis now,” he heard Lindir say and looked up. His friend was smiling at him. “I’ll come with you.”

“But -” Ferithil made to protest and was silenced by a hand over her mouth. She glared at Belegron. “I promise, you’ll have a huge pile of documents to copy on your desk tomorrow!” she threatened, and the younger man laughed.

“I’m sure Idhor will help me. Won’t you?”

The quiet young man turned to them, nodded and turned back to Feriar, who was having a spirited debate with Mirfuin. Erestor followed the tug of the hand. Ferithil freed herself of Belegron and waved them off, laughing. “Say hello to Airondis from me, Erestor! And don’t forget to attend tomorrow’s lunch!”

Then they were already outside, walking down the steps leading from the main house into the narrow Imladrin streets.

“Did he treat you badly, Erestor?”

“Should he have?”

Lindir snorted. “Restor, we all know you’re perfect at making evasive replies, but I want an answer. So, did he tread you badly?”

He hesitated. “Not really.”

“But?”

Erestor permitted himself a small sigh. “Lord Glorfindel hardly had eyes for anything but his horse. Lord Elrond appears to have found his approval, but I was … not interesting enough.”

Lindir was quiet until they reached the corner where they usually parted ways. There he squeezed Erestor’s shoulder and touched their foreheads together. “He’s old. And few of the old ones are as nice and kind as Lord Elrond.”

“I know,” Erestor whispered.

☼

He could hear the roaring sounds of the Bruinen in the background as he came up to Dinethar’s house. He shuddered and drew his cloak closer around his shouldes before knocking. She opened at once and smiled at him. Gillos was asleep on her arms, and he dampened his voice when he greeted her. “Good evening, Dinethar. I wanted to pick Airondis up. I hope everything went alright today?”

“Of course.” The smile grew a little warmer. “But, Lord Erestor − Airondis has fallen asleep in Gillos’s room. Don’t you want to leave her here for tonight?”

He was tempted to rebuff her decidedly, but refrained. “Dinethar, I’m truly grateful for your watching her at all, I don’t want to burden you with her during the night as well − she doesn’t even have a nightgown with her.”

“I gave her one of mine when I saw she was growing tired,” the young mother answered immediately, and her eyes grew soft. “Lord Erestor, I promise it’s no burden. Fuingael is on watch and I’m a little alone with Gillos anyhow. You’d be doing me a favour if I could keep Airondis overnight.”

Erestor bit his lip. “She sometimes talks during the night, Dinethar. Or screams, even. I dont want you -”

“She’s sleeping completely peacefully! Do you want to see her?”

Sighing inwardly, he followed her inside into the little boy’s room, stepped up to the bed and looked down on the black head, so similar to his own if others were to be believed. Softly he pushed a strand of hair away and scrutinised the peaceful face. Nothing hinted at Airondis having nightmares tonight …

“I don’t wish to burden you with this responsibility, Dinethar,” he said without taking his eyes off the sleeping form. She stepped up to him and cleared her throat.

“My- … Erestor, you look tired,” she said hesitantly. It passed to him, but he didn’t protest the informal address. “I promise to look after her. You’ve been out and about the whole day with Lord Glorfindel, haven’t you? You must be tired. Go home and lie down. I’ll take care of Airondis.”

He gave in. He could do with some peace and quiet. He needed to digest this day, this stranger.

“Dinethar, promise to send for me if she does anything.”

“Of course, Lord Erestor.” Her smile was certain, calming, but some uncertainty remained. Erestor pushed it aside; he could blame that on Glorfindel.

“I’m in your debt, Dinethar. Please, if you need anything, you have only to mention it.”

“You’re doing enough for all of us, Erestor. Sleep well.”

“Sleep well, Dinethar.” He hesitated before petting the child’s head. “Good night, Gillos.”

It was quiet in Imladris save for the sounds of the falling waters when he returned to his house. He stopped in front of the door, leaned back his head and tried to see the stars, but the sky was clouded. A common occurrence at this time of the year, yet …

A good night’s sleep would do wonders for him.

He decidedly shook off the thoughts and stepped inside.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When translating this chapter, I ran into a snag. Darling Berry is using “Frau” and “Herr” in the original story in addition to other titles like “Lord, Lady, Captain” and so on. Now, as far as I’m aware, Tolkien has not stated anywhere how to address a (wo)man of good, but not noble birth, who doesn’t have a right to be called “lady/lord/sir”, but is still entitled to a respectful address. In German, “Frau” and “Herr” would in centuries past be used for people who make up the middle class – they’re not at the top of society, but they aren’t servants either (who would be referred to either by only their last name without a title, or their given name). I wanted to keep those nuances from Berry’s story, and therefore tried to find something I could use in the Sindarin dictionary. I know it’s not canonical, but in this story, an unmarried woman of good birth (her parents aren’t servants, unskilled workers or farmers) has the right to be called “Dess”, a married woman is called “Di” (similar to “Goodwife” used during some periods of British history) and a grown man, whether married or not, is referred to as “Dir”.  
Like I said, hardly canonical, but please bear with me for the sake of the translation :-) Also, if you have better ideas, or some information about alternatives, please let me know.

“Imladris is already fairly big, we need several council members to oversee everything,” Erestor explained, climbing the stairs in front of Glorfindel and praying his insecurity would not be visible. His hopes that the balrog-slayer’s sour mood of the previous day was due to some temporary lapse had not been fulfilled. When Erestor had knocked on the door to the man’s chambers this morning, he had opened them with the same grim expression he had already worn the day before.

Still Erestor had tried to stick to the plan agreed upon with Elrond, and currently he was trying to acquaint Glorfindel with the intricacies of the Imladrin administration.

Which was easy considering his charge was not speaking. That, however, was the only upside Erestor was currently able to find in the whole situation.

“This is the library. Oh! Good morning, Heleth.” Smiling, he bent and petted the big, red-striped cat’s head. “She belongs to the librarian, Lady Certhdinen,” he said, turning half toward Glorfindel, who was staring straight ahead. Confused, Erestor rose and followed his line of sight.

His friend gave a little bow.

“Lindir.” Erestor cleared his throat. “My apologies, Lord Lindir. May I present Lord Glorfindel o Gondolin -”

“Lord Glorfindel.”

And with these two words, the man had swept past them into the library. Lindir stared first at his back, then at Erestor. “What did you have them bring him for breakfast?” he whispered in shock. “Sour wine?”

Erestor shrugged, helpless. “I had them bring him what all of us had. And I’m sure Hervesmaed took pains to make his breakfast tasty.”

Lindir shook his head and followed him to Glorfindel, who was glaring at a shelf stacked with books. “Is that all?”

Erestor had to bite the inside of his mouth, and he could see Lindir was doing the same, but his friend showed remarkable restraint as he stepped up to the lord. “Our library can hardly compare with the one in Gondolin, Lord Glorfindel, however we are constantly trying to acquire more works to stock it. Which, amongst other things, is one of my duties. If you tell me what you are missing, I shall do my utmost to make sure we get a copy.”

He was treated to a dismissive glance. “It is your duty to oversee the library?”

“No, that would be my duty. Lindir is my scribe and future replacement.”

Both young men breathed a silent sigh of relief at the quiet voice. Certhdinen joined them, Heleth on her arms pressed against her and purring. Certhdinen was by no means young, but in contrast to many other elves, she looked her age, having been one of those who had helped Elrond build Imladris in its first stages. As a general rule, she was quiet and kind, but also infamous for expelling with a hand of iron those who dared to disturb her library.

“Lady Certhdinen, Lord Glorfindel,” Erestor murmured hastily as he remembered that it was his duty to do the introductions. Certhdinen hinted at a curtsy without taking her grey eyes off Glorfindel, who made a stiff bow.

“I am pleased to be able to welcome you to Imladris, Lord Glorfindel. We have long awaited your arrival,” she said with her warm voice. “Like Lindir said, we are still working on turning this library into a great and renowned one, therefore please do not hesitate to state your preferences.”

A nod was all her answer, but Certhdinen did not seem to mind. On the contrary, her smile grew more amused. “Take your time looking around, Lord Glorfindel. Lindir and I will be happy to assist you, should you have any questions at any time.”

One fine, blond eyebrow was raised. “The both of you are the only ones taking care of this library?”

Certhdinen chuckled. “As I said, we are still working on expanding it. In the meantime, Lindir and I are fully capable of dealing with the work ourselves. We do have a scribe, but Hwesmelui is helping out at Lord Erestor’s place of work today. Now. Can we do anything for you at present?”

Another stiff bow. “Thank you.”

“I believe we should be on our way. I still need to introduce Lord Glorfindel to everyone else.” Erestor bowed as well, an uncomfortable weight in his stomach, which wasn’t dispelled by Certhdinen winking either. Compared to several of the other council members, the librarian was positively indulgent, although she was known for her temper where her library was concerned.

On an impulse, he decided to leave his own superior, Rhidawar, until the last. He was probably the one who had waited most impatiently for Glorfindel’s arrival, but Erestor knew him well enough to be able to picture what would unfold once these two old warhorses met each other.

“We should go to Lord Ivorcharan first. He is responsible for our supplies and also supervises all buildings.”

Glorfindel followed him silently. It did not serve to dispel Erestor’s feeling of impeding doom.

☼

He could hear Ferithil remonstrating with someone already from a fair distance away and regretted his decision to come here first for a moment. He was familiar enough with his friend’s temper to know that anything could aggravate her at any time.

Nervously he cleared his throat. “Lord Ivorcharan’s right hand is Lady Ferithil. Currently she is still helping him with the administration of supplies, but by Jul she will be accepted into the council as a full member responsible for the maintenance of streets, buildings and the valley in general. Lord Ivorcharan will stay in charge of supplies. He is the direct superior of the quartermasters of the surrounding settlement and also oversees the affairs of Lord Elrond’s own household, like his cook Hervesmaed and the chambermaids.” As much as one could say that anyone was Hervesmaed’s direct superior. The cook was not known for taking instructions kindly. Erestor quickly moved on. “Of course, you can also bring whatever concerns you have to the attention of their scribes, Belegron and Idhor. Although only Idhor will remain after Jul, since Belegron will remain with Lady Ferithil.”

Suddenly he realised that he was babbling, and he quickly shut his mouth. It was the fact that Glorfindel did not seem to have any questions that was throwing him so much, he realised. Ivorcharan and Ferithil would be Glorfindel’s main points of contact besides Aeglirar. It was Ivorcharan who oversaw the distribution of supplies for the Imladrin border guards, Ferithil was responsible for the maintenance of their training yards and baracks, and Aeglirar, well, he was in charge of compiling the lists with the names of those who were going on border duty.

To be precise, it was generally Tinnim’s duty to compile these lists.

Erestor’s heart contracted painfully. _‘Tin. I wish you were here. You’d be able to tell me how to deal with him.’_

He straightened his back. He had to make do without Tinnim. “Well then,” he mumbled and knocked on the door.

Ferithil’s voice immediately subsided and a moment later Idhor opened, eyes growing warm when he saw Erestor. “Lord Erestor,” he murmured and stepped back respectfully to permit them to enter. Erestor cleared his throat.

“Lady Ferithil, Lord Glorfindel. Belegron, Idhor,” he said stiffly and was almost amused at watching his friend curtsy without taking her bright eyes off the lord.

“Lord Glorfindel, it is my pleasure to bid you welcome. You may already have been informed that you and I will be working together once I have been officially appointed to the council.”

There was no reply, and for a moment, her eyes flitted to Erestor, who hurriedly closed the gap. “Yes, I have already informed Lord Glorfindel of this. I have also told him that he may approach Belegron and Idhor at any time with any concerns.”

Ferithil’s brow raised by a fraction. Whether or not she meant to convey it, Erestor was not sure, yet he read _‘And I’m certain this uncouth bloke will have complaints’_ into the gesture.

He blushed.

“If you have any questions at this point, I will be happy to answer them. Unfortunately Lord Ivorcharan isn’t here right now, he was called to the stores.” Ferithil came to his rescue, and now her eyes clearly conveyed her confusion. “But Lord Erestor, since you are here already, would you like to take the new drawings for the guards’ baracks with you? I have just finished them.”

“I – yes, thank you, Lady Ferithil.” Erestor accepted the scrolls and cursed at himself. Hadn’t he decided to try and avoid Rhidawar today if he could help it anyhow? “Well, if Lord Glorfindel has no questions, we should continue to Lord Aeglirar. Thank you, Lady Ferithil.”

Glorfindel didn’t even present the three of them with more than a bow as a farewell when they left.

☼

Erestor did not dare to speak again, but he was saved by a friendly voice calling out for them. “Lord Erestor. My apologies for missing you.”

He stopped, thereby forcing Glorfindel to stop as well, and offered a relieved bow to Ivorcharan before he presented the new arrival.

To his chagrined surprise, that same new arrival now opened his mouth for the first time today. “Lord Ivorcharan.”

It wasn’t much, but it was decidedly more than he had said in Ferithil’s writing room. Erestor felt anger well up as Ivorcharan presented himself once more, then repeated Ferithil’s offer of coming to him with any questions or concerns Lord Glorfindel might have.

“Thank you, Lord Ivorcharan,” Glorfindel deferred coolly and Erestor was forced to interfere in the conversation once more. He cleared his throat.

“We were on our way to Lord Aeglirar.”

Ivorcharan smiled. “You won’t find him in his writing room. I just met Lord Aeglirar on his way to the Houses of Healing. He wanted to deliver some new supplies.”

Erestor found himself excited. “Has Lady Tinnim returned?”

Ivorcharan’s smile grew. “Regrettably, no. Dess Thinferil and Captain Rithelion arrived unexpectedly this morning. They brought some plants from the borders.”

His disappointment was as quick and deep as his former joy, but Erestor forced himself to smile. “Oh well. Then we shall meet him in the Houses of Healing.”

Ivorcharan bowed and they continued on their way, left the main house and walked in the direction of the Houses of Healing. Erestor espied Rithelion down at the stables, talking to Rhidawar, but he consciously chose the upper path. Rhidawar would not like being disturbed while talking to his right hand out at the borders.

Maybe it was an excuse, but for the time being, Erestor couldn’t care.

“Lord Glorfindel, I believe Lord Elrond has already invited you to the feast this evening,” he said instead and heard something beside him that might have been a growl. He bravely ignored it. “It would honour us if you were able to attend. Of course we would not like to press you, and we are fully conscious that you are yet lacking proper attire -”

“I don’t need ceremonial robes,” he was interrupted and bit the inside of his mouth.

“Well, that’s be as it may, we would enjoy your company tonight, robes or no robes. I could, of course, notify Lord Elrond’s seamstress and request her to prepare some for you, if you like?”

The foreign lord stopped and stared at him from under drawn brows. “I believe I was sent here to defend the Imladrin border against Morgoth’s creatures. They will hardly be intimidated by ceremonial robes.”

Without thinking, Erestor burst out with: “They’ll hardly be intimidated by what you’re wearing right now, either!”

A moment of surprised silence. Then Erestor turned to go. “I shall send Gwenglinn to you as soon as possible. If you would follow me.”

☼

“I’ve never met with more arrogance in my life!” Ferithil put her hands to her sides and glared at Erestor as if Glorfindel’s behaviour was his fault. “Restor, why are you putting up with that? I would’ve given that man a piece of my mind!”

Lindir smiled and attempted to hand a jug of blackberry juice to Ferithil, who brushed it aside impatiently. “I don’t want juice, Lindir, I want to know what got stuck in that man’s behind!”

“A stick, judging by the way he walks.”

Belegron’s dry comment broke the tension and they all laughed. Ferithil finally sat down on the bench, grinning broadly. “Well, at least you got rid of him during lunchtime. Where is he, by the way?”

“He went to the stables. To check on his horse.” Erestor sighed and put a hand over his eyes. “How angry was Lord Ivorcharan?”

She snorted. “Well, he wasn’t impressed, but he calmed down after Lady Certhdinen had a long talk with him.”

“Well, that’s something.” Erestor left his hand where it was. “I don’t even want to imagine what’s going to happen once he meets Lord Rhidawar tonight.”

Lindir whistled while everyone else looked at him in sympathy. “We have your back,” said Ferithil and patted his shoulder. “Do you want some more food? Hervesmaed really surpassed herself today.”

Erestor smiled and got up. “No, thank you. I wanted to quickly check on Airondis.“ He sighed. “And after that, I’ll need to pick Lord Glorfindel up at the stables and show him the stores.”

“It’s a real shame Tinnim isn’t here right now,” Ferithil said, and secretly Erestor agreed from the bottom of his heart.


	3. Chapter 3

“Restor, stop moving about! It is not proper for Lord Elrond’s councillor! Isn’t that right, Lady Certhdinen?”

“You sound like a grumpy mother, Ithil!” Lindir called from the adjoining room and they heard Belegron laugh. Certhdinen took the strands of Erestor’s hair from Ferithil’s hands.

“You appear to be almost as excited as Lord Erestor, Lady Ferithil,” she smiled. “I fear the feast will hardly justify the excitement it’s causing.”

Ferithil sank down on the chair beside Erestor and sighed deeply. “It will the moment Lord Rhidawar meets Lord Glorfindel,” she said darkly and Certhdinen laughed.

“Aren’t you exaggerating just a bit?”

A knock on the door stopped Ferithil from answering, and immediately after a woman swept inside. “Lindir!” She put her hands to her sides and growled, “Where are you?”

“Nana!” The librarian stood, bewildered. “What is the matter, why aren’t you home getting dressed?”

Laervilui gestured wildly. “Your father’s already leaving for the borders again with Lord Rhidawar, and you aren’t there!” She glared accusingly at her son. “The Orcs are marching on Eryn Tithen! The messenger has just arrived!”

Erestor’s hair was forgotten. He quickly stood, catching the long, heavy robes in one hand, and made for the door. “I must talk to Lord Rhidawar before he leaves. Have Maethbron and Estelaer been notified?”

“Wait, Restor, we’re coming, too!” Ferithil was by his side in a moment and pulled a face when her seam caught on something.

“Careful, Lady Ferithil. Pick up the dress. Like so. Nobody will think ill of you doing so in this kind of situation.” Certhdinen demonstrated the technique as she quickly followed them as well. Lindir was at the front of the group with his mother and now turned around. “Belegron, run and fetch Maethbron and Lord Aeglirar or Lithuivren! Now!” he ordered and the younger man shot off in the opposite direction. “Lord Ivorcharan and Lord Elrond are already with Lord Rhidawar and -” A moment’s hesitation. “- and Captain Rithelion down at the stables.”

“What about Lord Glorfindel? Shouldn’t someone fetch him as well?”

Erestor stopped abruptly and stared toward the main house uncertainly. “He’s not yet been appointed to his post.”

His words were hesitant. Laervilui threw her hands up and grasped her son’s. “You make up your minds,” she said. “We’re going.”

Ferithil followed them with her eyes, but stayed where she was. Certhdinen gave Erestor a searching glance. “Don’t you think this might be a good opportunity for Lord Glorfindel to get to know our defenses?”

“Lord Erestor! Lord Erestor!”

“Estelaer!” Erestor managed to catch the girl before she could stumble.

“You’ve got to hurry, Lord Rhidawar is about to leave!” she gasped, and Erestor grabbed his robes and ran.

☼

“Such a commotion just before a feast! Orcs really have no consideration!” Once more, Ferithil pulled at the tie Erestor had fastened in her hair for the fifth time just moments ago, and it came loose again. “Restor, I look terrible, don’t I? Simply ghastly, all scruffy and everything!”

He sighed, took the tie from her and put it back where it was supposed to be, keeping the five long plaits on Ferithil’s head together. “Ithil, stop moving about! You’re definitely worse than I.”

“I’m not Lord Elrond’s chief councillor.”

“_Designated_ chief councillor.” Erestor tied the knot and surveyed his handiwork with as much satisfaction as he could muster with his stomach all aflutter. Ferithil sighed, turned around and put her arms around his neck. Lindir clicked his tongue disapprovingly.

“Lady Ferithil, if Lord Elrond could see you right now!”

“Then he’d remember that the first time he saw me, I was lying in Erestor’s arms,” was Ferithil’s reply. She did not even bother to turn her head to Lindir. Instead she worriedly searched Erestor’s gaze. “You aren’t looking well, Erestor. Are you scared of him?”

To his own surprise, Erestor gave a loud, dismissive snort. “Of Lord Glorfindel? Certainly not! I’m more worried about our people in Eryn Tithen.”

For just one moment, Ferithil’s face mirrored her true feelings, the deep concern hidden by her jumpy behaviour. Then she took a deep breath. “Good. Because you don’t have to. We’re all here, and we have your back. What are you worried about?”

Erestor hesitated, but the words wanted out. “I just wish Tinnim would return already! Nobody knows where she is, do they? And wasn’t she planning to visit Eryn Tithen last?”

She silently hugged him closer and he allowed his head to rest on her shoulder for a moment.

The curtain rustled. Lindir took a sharp breath, and someone cleared their throat, making them jump apart. Erestor felt the blood rise to his cheeks. “Lord Elrond!” he stammered. “I – our humble apologies, we weren’t being disrespectful!”

Elrond gave him a smile. “I do believe I can recall a similar situation. However, I have to say I vastly prefer Lady Ferithil’s state right now.”

Ferithil blushed as much as Erestor. “I was unconscious back then,” she mumbled, so quietly it was hard to catch her words, and Elrond’s smile grew.

“I recall that vividly.” The smile disappeared and he looked at the young elves solemnly. “I have been notified that Lord Glorfindel and Lord Rhidawar have yet to meet each other.”

Erestor’s stomach turned upside-down. “There hasn’t been time yet. I didn’t want to disturb Lord Rhidawar while he was consulting with Dess Thinferil and Captain Rithelion.”

Elrond nodded, full of understanding and encouragement. “I suspected as much. Unfortunately, we are now facing a slight problem with regard to tonight’s seating plans. The person whose place Lord Glorfindel is supposed to fill in the future isn’t here. Lord Erestor, I’m afraid I’ll have to ask you to stand in for Lord Rhidawar once more tonight.”

“But – protocol?” Erestor protested and Elrond waved if off.

“I do believe protocol is flexible enough to permit a slight deviation from the original seating plan. You haven’t been officially appointed head councillor yet. Therefore you are free to take Lord Rhidawar’s seat, and Lord Aeglirar will take the seat of the head councillor.” His gaze went to Ferithil and Lindir, and the smile returned. “And besides, Imladris has never been a stickler for protocl, has it? I wager all of our guests shall survive such a minor breach of it. Please, do not look so perturbed, Lord Lindir, Lord Erestor – and especially you, Lady Ferithil. You may be the youngest council members, but every one of you has earned his or her place.”

Embarrassed, they cast their eyes down and Elrond chuckled as he offered Ferithil his arm. “May I, Lady Ferithil?”

“But – are you not going to escort Lady Certhdinen?”

“Lady Certhdinen has asked to be escorted by Lord Ivorcharan,” Elrond replied, a twinkle in his eyes. “Therefore, my arm is free and I would be honoured to be granted the priviledge of escorting you, Lady Ferithil.”

Erestor felt pride well up as his friend sank into a curtsy and then walked out into the great hall, Lindir and himself at her heels.

☼

“I don’t understand why this is so much more exciting than it used to be,” Lindir whispered beside him as they made their way down the long aisle leading up to the main table, passing all the other tables where their guests were seated. They were all looking at the small group, and more than one face showed an expression of intense pride.

Unwittingly Erestor straightened his shoulders even more. “We’re not just young scribes any longer, Lindir, we’re designated councillors,” he replied quietly.

“We’ve been designated councillors since last Jul.”

Erestor’s eyes fell on a tall, imposing figure standing out from the rest, both because of the simple clothing and the air it gave off – cool and detached. He swallowed.

“Yes, but last Jul, the only elf of noble blood was Lord Elrond himself.”

☼

“Lord Glorfindel. I am pleased you could make it tonight.”

Tales and songs had always given Glorfindel’s eye colour as blue, but Erestor caught himself thinking that these eyes were way too dark to be called “blue”. There was a little speck in the left eye which was definitely more grey than blue.

Regardless of actual colour, though, both eyes looked like storm.

“Lord Erestor.”

That was all he said when Erestor took his place beside him, the seat of the Imladrin general. But the disapproval hit him like a hammer, and he was glad when Elrond turned to the room at large after Ferithil had claimed her seat to his left. He spread his arms and smiled.

“Friends and relatives, citizens of Imladris and guests from elswhere, I bid you welcome,” he said with a warm voice. “At the start of this year we all still thought that our next big celebration would be the offical appointment of our own children as council members, and I am certain we are all very much looking forward to the day we will appoint the Ladies Ferithil and Tinnim and Lords Erestor and Lindir to their duties. Tonight, though, we have a different, a special reason to celebrate.”

He turned to the side and bestowed such a charming smile on Glorfindel that Erestor was truly at a loss how the man could stay so unmoved, his face a neutral mask. “The Valar have sent us a man about whose deeds I need not speak, for they are known to all Elvenkind. The tale of his bravery has been told for centuries, and it is my great honour and priviledge to bid welcome to Lord Glorfindel of the House of the Golden Flower of Gondolin.”

His gesture told Glorfindel to rise. For a split second Erestor was afraid that the Lord would resist the order, but Glorfindel rose with a fluent movement the likes of which Erestor had never seen before. Somehow he managed to convey both respect for Elrond as well as arrogance and disdain for everyone else in the room.

A hand found his knee, and Ferithil gave it a quick squeeze. Anger coiled in his stomach. Had Glorfindel always been this way, or was that a result of being reborn?

Elrond pretended not to notice, and Erestor admired him for not even giving a hint that he had both seen and recognised the foreign lord’s impoliteness.

“Accept our thanks, Lord Glorfindel, mine and those of everyone living in and close to Imladris. Today’s events have proven that our borders are not as safe from Orcs as we would wish them to be -” Hushed voices sprang up here and there, “- and we entrust our lives and safety into your capable hands. Be assured that we are extremely honoured by your arrival.”

He motioned for Glorfindel to sit down, turned toward the kitchens and signalled Hervesmaed to start serving the meal. She had been waiting impatiently, and now Elves bearing steaming plates and bowls started pouring into the hall. The noise levels rose as everyone present turned to their meal.

Those at the main table were served by Mirfuin and Hervesmaed personally, a sure sign of the cook’s respect for the foreign lord. She gazed at him with shy admiration, something none of them was used to, and Ferithil was amused. Erestor could tell by the rhythm her fingers were tapping on his knee. He permitted himself a small smile as well as his friend retrieved her hand and replied to Elrond’s question.

“According to Lord Elrond, Hervesmaed is the best cook in all of Arda. I hope you will enjoy your meal,” he said to Glorfindel, having gained new confidence.

“Lord Elrond will know what he is talking about,” was the reply, and Erestor, baffled, fell silent.

☼

“Even if Lord Glorfindel has barely spoken ten words to you, that is no reason to be hiding out in a corner, Lord Erestor.”

He startled and turned toward Aeglirar, his conscience nagging him. “I wasn’t hiding, Lord Aeglirar. I was only aiming for a bit of peace and quiet.”

“Yes, I understand quite well. He certainly is – taxing, is he not?” The older Lord stepped up beside him and surreptiously handed him a glass of wine, sipping from his own while his gaze went to Glorfindel and Elrond on the sofa where they sat. Elrond was talking to the Gondoledhel, gestures lively and eagerness visible in his demeanour. Glorfindel was watching him silently and without much of an expression.

“Is Gil-Galad the same?” Erestor bit down on his tongue, angry with himself. “I do apologise for my curiosity, Lord Aeglirar. I had no intention of insulting the High King.”

Aeglirar chuckled. “If there ever was an Elf who I’d never suspect of intentionally insulting anyone, it is you, Lord Erestor. Gil-Galad can be – impatient. Very impatient. At times angry and harsh.” He was silent for a moment. “However, even knowing most lords and ladies at court, so far I have never come across anyone as – detached from things as Lord Glorfindel.”

There was a reason why Aeglirar was in charge of the diplomatic correspondence, together with Tinnim. Erestor stopped himself from rubbing his temple to drive the nagging pain away.

“Are you quite well, Lord Erestor? Would you like to leave? I can make your excuses to Lord Elrond, if you so wish.”

He sighed inwardly and straightened his shoulders. “Thank you, I am well. I think I should return to Lord Elrond.”

“I’ll come with you.” Aeglirar immediately started clearing a path for them toward the sofa on which the two Lords sat. Whether openly or hidden, all eyes in the room were on them, and Erestor spotted Hervesmaed in a corner. Her arms were crossed and her brow wrinkled, and she was keeping close tabs on Glorfindel. Her former admiration appeared to have diminished quite a bit though, if Erestor was reading her expression right.

“Lord Elrond, Lord Glorfindel. May Lord Erestor and I join you?”

“Please, do have a seat. Lord Erestor, I was just telling Lord Glorfindel that he will be getting a new barack for the recruits soon. Do you by any chance know whether Lady Ferithil has finished the drawings?”

Elrond’s warm voice drove Erestor’s headache away a little, and he took a deep breath. “She has already handed them to me, Lord Elrond, but I have not yet had the time to study them properly.”

“Of course. I assume she – oh, there she is! Lady Ferithil, will you join us?”

Elrond raised a hand and waved the young woman closer. Erestor watched her take a firmer hold of Belegron’s arm and the corners of her mouth going down as she came closer, but she bowed her head respectfully.

“How can I be of help, Lord Elrond?”

“Lord Glorfindel, I presume you’ve already met Belegron? He is one of our most promising young scribes, and will in the future be Lady Ferithil’s personal scribe.” Elrond motioned toward a chair. “Won’t you have a seat, Lady Ferithil? I was just told that you have already finished the drawings for the new recruits’ baracks. Might we start work already next spring?”

Belegron positioned himself behind his lady and kept a neutral face. Ferithil as well was cool and poised as she spoke without looking at Glorfindel. “I don’t see any obstacles once Lord Erestor has had a look at the drawings and Lord Aeglirar or Lady Tinnim have given me the number of workers I can expect.”

“Have you already seen the drawings?” The lord of the valley turned to Glorfindel. A silent shake of the head answered. Elrond hardly seemed to notice. “Well, mayhap you’ll do so in the next few days. I believe you’ll be quite satisfied with Lady Ferithil’s work.”

It was only a murmur somewhere in the background, nothing that would have caught Erestor’s attention, had the name not been so familiar. And it was the smallest of reactions, hardly more than a twitch of the fingers which had so far lain quietly on Glorfindel’s tigh, and a spark of something in his eyes that looked a lot like recognition. Yet Erestor, whose eyes had once more rested on the distant lord, noticed both when someone behind Glorfindel quietly uttered a comment about Airondis and Ferithil.

Elrond continued speaking, but Erestor had stopped paying attention. He wouldn’t participate in the conversation anyway unless called upon to do so. Instead he focused his attention on this tiny gesture of surprise.

Airondis.

It was impossible. Glorfindel could not know her. He could not.


	4. Chapter 4

He hesitated for yet another moment, pushing the strand of hair that simply wouldn’t let itself be tied back behind his ear, before taking the few remaining steps toward the door behind which Glorfindel was waiting.

Every single morning of the past two weeks he had stood in front of this door and pondered simply approaching Elrond and telling him that there was no point in him showing Glorfindel Imladris. The moment Erestor mentioned lunchtime, Glorfindel waved all offers of company away impatiently, turned around and made for the stables. He did not seem to care how far off or close by they were. He did not wait for Erestor either, although he would follow the moment he realised Glorfindel was walking back toward the main house. If he was not going to have lunch with Glorfindel, he might as well have lunch with the other young councillors. Ferthil, Lindir and the even younger scribes always had a comforting comment or a sympathetic ear.

Erestor needed those breaks desperately.

He stood staring at the door, hand raised but not knocking. His thoughts went to Airondis. He had not seen her awake in three days now. Dinethar had positively insisted to keep her when Erestor had come by to pick Airondis up after the feast. It had been the middle of the night. Erestor had no choice but to accept her offer of help. He was unable to handle the amount of work otherwise, now that Rhidawar had returned to the borders and Erestor was in charge of all guard-related affairs, and Glorfindel besides. But guilt descended upon him every time he brushed the dark hair out of Airondis’ sleeping face only to return to his writing room, and then finally, late at night, make his way back to his own house. Ferithil, Belegron and Lindir helped him as much as they could, but in addition to Glorfindel, Erestor now also had to take care of the diplomatic correspondence that usually was Tinnim’s duty. It was not as much as it should have been – Erestor knew well that Aeglirar’s wallet contained at least half of the correspondence that Erestor should be taking care of when the other lord left in the evening and bid Erestor goodnight on the way out. Since the welcome feast, which had been secretly dubbed the “Feast in honour of his Fierceness”, the older councillors appeared to have formed a protective circle around Erestor. Even Heleth appeared every time when Erestor sat down on the bench in front of the house, jumped into his lap, purred and nuzzled him as if trying to console him.

They did not speak about Glorfindel or his demeanour. Instead they kept their silence like him, continued to be friendly, helpful and welcoming in his presence, but Erestor was not alone in suspecting that something was going on between the older councillors which the younger group was not part of.

Lindir suspected that they were trying to repay Glorfindel’s coldness like for like, yet Erestor was certain this was not the case. He had witnessed Aeglirar being polite to the point of being the rudest person alive, and it was not the same. And besides, it was neither Ivorcharan’s nor Certhdinen’s way. The librarian had not even commented on the fact that Glorfindel had, indeed, handed Lindir a list of books before the week was out. The single sentence that accompanied said list had indicated that he expected to see these books in the library as soon as possible.

Once Lindir had skimmed the titles, he had almost cursed aloud. Some of them, he later told Erestor, had existed in exactly one single library – the one in Gondolin.

It grated on Erestor. The man, his demeanour, this tiny twitch of his fingers when Airondis’ name had been spoken. Since that evening, a threatening cloud seemed to loom over his head, and he could not dispel the sense of impending doom.

The foreign lord had not asked any questions. He had given no indication, either by word or deed, that Erestor’s fears had any substance. And yet, simply the thought that he might be right chilled Erestor to the bones.

He had instructed Dinethar in no uncertain terms to avoid the main house on her daily rounds with Airondis, and walk past the stores instead. And he made sure he and Glorfindel never passed by them while Dinethar was going to be out and about with Gillos and Airondis.

“Lord Erestor?”

“Mirfuin!” His breath left him abruptly when he noticed the girl standing behind him, a tray in her hands and an uncertain expression on her face.

“Are you feeling alright, Lord Erestor? You’ve been standing here for quite some time now, and you have yet to knock.”

He ground his teeth. “I was only lost in thought, Mirfuin. That’s all. Thank you for rousing me, though. If I don’t fetch Lord Glorfindel soon, we will fall behind on our schedule, and that would be so inconvenient, would it not?”

She relaxed and dimpled. “You shouldn’t work so much, Lord Erestor.”

“I hardly work that much,” Erestor protested and she frowned.

“Di Hervesmaed says that you’re working too much and eating too few of her sweet buns.”

He laughed at that. “I shall make sure to count the number of sweet buns I eat during lunchtime, then, to allay her concerns. Now run along before Lord Elrond has to wait even longer for his tea.”

“Oh!” Startled, she scurried past him. “I’ll see you later, Lord Erestor!”

“Try not to fall, Mirfuin!” He could not refrain from chuckling once more as he turned around to finally knock. He never did, though. Without him noticing, the door had opened and cool grey-blue eyes stared him down.

“Are you always this familial with the servant girls, Lord Erestor?”

On the inside, Erestor forced himself to take a deep breath, straighten up and smiled. “Good morning, Lord Glorfindel. I was thinking that we should inspect the lower part of the Bruinen today.”

There was a sinking feeling in his stomach. Erestor suppressed it forcefully.

☼

“As you can see, the river is an excellent barrier against anyone attempting to enter Imladris.”

He looked to the side. Glorfindel was busy petting Asfaloth’s shiny throat, the horse was nuzzling his face, and Erestor strongly doubted Glorfindel could at present see anything at all. Mall, one step behind Erestor, growled at the other stallion, and Asfaloth responded by throwing up his head and growling back.

“Asfaloth.” Words followed, words in a language Erestor was only barely acquainted with, and suddenly the horse appeared to be laughing.

Mall’s hoof hit the ground in an angry stomp, and Erestor grabbed his reins and walked away from the thundering waters. He was feeling sick, like every time he got too close to the Bruinen. The feeling of impeding doom, as well, appeared to triple every time he was out here, as if called to him by the first small waves he spotted.

Glorfindel made no move to follow him.

“Lord Glorfindel? It is midday already. We should return to the main house. This afternoon, I was planning to show you -”

“You should plan to do your work.”

Erestor stopped speaking. Cool blue-grey eyes met his. “You have shown me the valley, the entrances to the valley and the most important buildings. We have visited the training yard and the baracks and have looked at the drawings for the new barack. You have presented every councillor to me and shown me the closest settlements. It is hardly necessary to do anything else, Lord Erestor. I can find my way back to Imladris on my own.”

His hands started shaking with rage. “Fair enough, if all this is of so little interest to you, I am more than happy to leave you here!” It simply burst out of him. “However, should you ever feel like you are going to accept your future appointment as councillor and general of Imladris, you should maybe consider letting me show you the ropes – unless you prefer to be shown by Lord Rhidawar? I’m sure that can be arranged, once he has returned from the border!”

Suddenly the man was right in his face, nailing him to the spot with his gaze, eyes stormy. “Why would I place any faith in your word, Lord Erestor? For all I can tell, you are nothing but a young scribe who was been awarded the position of councillor for reasons that utterly escape me.”

Mall neighed in anger, but Glorfindel grabbed his reins and forced the horse to look at him. Erestor swallowed hard.

“You don’t even have a proper position, Lord Erestor,” the foreign lord continued, all the while staring at the horse. “One day you say you are Lord Rhidawar’s right hand, the next day you are Lord Elrond’s chief councillor. Which is it, my lord? And why should I trust a man on matters of defense who spends his days pushing papers? I am expected to organise the defenses of the valley, and all I am given is a scribe?”

“Mall!”

Erestor pushed against the horse with all his might, let go of the reins and pushed himself up to his full height. In that moment, he noticed that he and Glorfindel stood at almost the same height – only a few inches were missing.

“Imladris is not Gondolin,” he said, barely holding himself back. “Yes, mayhap bigger towns with a large population can afford to appoint an Elf to every task, but Imladris is not so fortunate. I am both Lord Elrond’s designated chief councillor and Lord Rhidawar’s right hand.”

Glorfindel’s eyes were blazing. “Why has none of the older councillors been appointed to this position? You are far too young to be given such power. Where are the lords of the houses, where are the men who should be sitting in the council in your stead, the men who know their work and duties?”

“I know my work and my duties well enough, Lord Glorfindel!” Erestor snapped back. “If you wish to discuss Lord Elrond’s decision, feel free to voice your complaints to him, but spare me! It was his own wish that I should be appointed chief councillor, and no-one protested his decision!”

“How is a child like you supposed to live up to such a position?”

The voice was cold, imposing, and Erestor hated it. Hearing it, he almost did feel like a small child.

“Lord Elrond has never had a chief councillor before,” he replied coolly. “The closest thing he ever had to one was Lord Aeglirar – and now me. Whether you like it or not, you’ll have to make do with me, Lord of the House of the Golden Flower of Gondolin.”

For a moment, real anger distorted the beautiful face. “Lord Elrond is delusional!” Glorfindel spat. “What exactly is he hoping to achieve out here with a handful of Elves? This valley has a lord, but no houses, a council, but no lords and ladies, it has children for councillors and simple people calling themselves lords and ladies without a drop of noble blood in their veins!”

The only thing preventing Erestor from hitting the man was Mall suddenly pulling on the reins, and he had to push him back once more instead of wringing the arrogant twat’s neck.

“Every Imladrin council member has a right to be called lord or lady, by Lord Elrond’s own orders when he first instigated the council,” he said with a very quiet voice once he had regained control over the horse. “As I’m sure you’ll have noticed by now, this council is very small, with only four members, and it is much too small to administer a settlement of Imladris’ size. Lord Lindir, Lady Tinnim, Lady Ferithil and I have been trained specifically to become the next council members. To prepare us for our future positions, the council decided that we should also be referred to as lords and ladies about five years ago. All of us have served as scribes and right hand to one of the current council members since this settlement was established – we have been prepared for our duties since Imladris’ first day. You can doubt Lord Elrond’s wisdom and his decision of founding Imladris; you can dispute his decision to pronounce us lords and ladies; you can accuse us of being young and children, Lord Glorfindel, but there is one thing we have and you don’t: We’ve known Imladris since the day the first barack was erected here.”

Silence descended upon them. The river thundered in the background and Erestor felt his hands shaking.

“As for the noble blood you apparently deem so important, well, you are joining the council now, are you not? Besides, Lady Certhdinen is distantly related to Legolas of the House of the Tree. Mayhap she would never have been considered a lady according to Gondolin’s standards, but you can hardly doubt her right to a council seat.”

Mall nuzzled him calmingly, and Erestor patted his throat. “I will return to Imladris now. Whether you join me or not, I could not care less. I do hope for your sake however that you never voice what you just told me in front of Lord Elrond. Thankful as he may be for your return, this settlement is his achievement and his pride. Including everyone who calls it home.”

He mounted Mall with shaking knees, expecting to be called back any moment. But nothing happened, and he breathed a sigh of relief when the sounds of falling water finally faded.

☼

“No, Restor, that was utterly and completely justified.” Ferithil’s face was white with rage, and Lindir, against his customary demeanour, kept his silence. “Just who does this – this arrogant twat think he is? Does he expect us all to fall down to our knees and worship him because he died protecting Gondolin? Because he died fighting a balrog? Well, if that is his measure of valour, then bring on the balrog and I’ll fight it myself! Let’s see if he’ll still look down on me then. I can die fighting a balrog just as much as he!”

“Ithil.” Lindir put a hand on hers and a finger on his mouth, glancing at the door meaningfully. “We all know that the old lords and ladies aren’t always happy about us upstarts. Remember Oropher’s reaction when he received Tinnim’s first letter.”

“What are you talking about, Lindir?” she hissed at him. “I’ll say whatever I want to say, and if every lord and lady in Imladris hears me, so what? How can you stay this calm when he’s insulting Erestor like that?”

“I’m only trying not to make matters worse for Erestor.” Lindir’s eyes blazed with the rage boiling underneath for a moment. “What do you think is going to happen if Lord Glorfindel gets to know that Erestor has been complaining about him? Do you want him to complain to Lord Elrond in turn?”

“Lord Elrond would believe Restor’s version of events!”

“Lord Elrond would have to remember that Lord Rhidawar is about to leave for Valinor and Lord Glorfindel is going to be his new councillor and general!”

Silence fell. Without a word, Ferithil turned around and closed the door before sitting down beside Erestor and taking his hand. “Restor, do forgive me,” she begged quietly. “But I really cannot stand anyone insulting you of all people in this manner!”

He smiled and managed to successfully hide his tears behind it. While he had defended himself against the accusations, the words had cut deeper than he had thought. “Lord Glorfindel appears to be struggling with getting used to his new home. Was that not to be expected? Have we not seen this in many of those who came here with us?”

“No-one insulted someone else for wanting to stay here,” Ferithil protested, then heaved a deep sigh. “Restor, how can we help you?”

He squeezed her hand. “You are already doing so much, Ithil. It is alright, truly.”

“Have you even seen Airondis lately?”

There was a lump in his throat. “Only asleep.”

Now Lindir put a hand on his shoulder as well. “We’ll go by Dinethar’s and play with her, Erestor. Or I can do some of your work. Ferithil and I can compile lists as well,” he offered, but Erestor shook his head and pushed his chin out.

“Maethbron, Estelaer and I are managing, Lindir. Truly. There isn’t much left to do anyway.”

His friends exchanged a look, then Ferithil smiled all of a sudden. “Oh Erestor, you truly live up to your name. Alright then, but let me at least give you some good news that came in earlier: They managed to defeat the Orcs in Eryn Tithen, and Lord Rhidawar will return soon. Guess who he’s going to bring along!”

His heart was suddenly beating in his throat. “Tin!”

She laughed happily. “Tin’s coming back, Erestor! And nothing happened to her!”


	5. Chapter 5

Apparently he had arrived first.

Erestor took a deep breath and sat down on the bench. Tilting back his head, he stared at the leaves above. Things were looking up, now that he knew Tinnim was coming back. Bright enough at least to knock on Glorfindel’s door in the morning yet again.

The door stayed closed.

So he marched to the kitchens and interrogated Mirfuin, who informed him that Lord Glorfindel had taken his horse for a ride at dawn already. If Lord Erestor needed him, he would return after lunchtime.

The girl had almost looked frightened, and Erestor had found himself calming her while wondering whether that insufferable git had let her feel that he disapproved of Erestor’s way of treating her. He discarded the thought, however, since he got the impression that she was frightened of Glorfindel in general.

_‘He’s so difficult,’_ a voice whispered in Erestor’s head as he raised it to stare at the book he had brought from the writing room. _‘He’s so much above you in rank. You can’t treat him the same way you would treat the other council members.’_

A shadow fell on him and the voice stopped. Erestor did not have to look up when someone sat down on the bench beside him. He would have recognised her anywhere.

A gentle hand brushed through his hair, and with a sigh that spoke of all the tension of the last few days, he put his head upon a shoulder and breathed in the familiar scent. One hand reached out of its own, grasped the other and gave it a squeeze.

Tinnim chuckled and pressed a kiss to his hair. “The others have already filled me in, Torlenn. You’ve had a hard time lately, haven’t you?”

He shook his head and she sighed. “I wish I’d been here.”

He took her other hand as well. “Tin, you were out checking the settlements. And as you can see, I’m still alive. When did you return? Has Lord Rhidawar arrived as well?”

“Only just now, Torlenn. There was some further delay on the way. I don’t have much time either, but Estelaer said you’d come here, and I wanted to see you before I reported to Lord Elrond.” Her voice changed to amusement. “Concerning your survival, it must’ve been a close call. According to Ferithil, Lord Glorfindel has turned out to be a veritable monster.”

Erestor tried to smile. “No, nothing so sinister. He’s simply – being very difficult.”

She raised an eyebrow. “That’s what children are calling it these days?”

Sighing, he moved so he could place his head in her lap and look up at her. “Tin, I really have no idea how to act around him. He seems to be interested only in his horse! And he looks down on us because we’re not of noble birth, and too young, and can’t do anything right for him!” he confessed, at his wits end, and she laughed, pushing his hair from his face.

“If anyone can handle him, it’s you, Erestor. Trust me – you’re by far the most experienced in terms of diplomacy.”

“Me?” He snorted. “Where should I have learned about diplomacy? You work for Lord Aeglirar. You are in charge of diplomatic correspondence.”

“That’s not entirely true. You’ve been doing more of it since you started working for Lord Elrond,” she reminded him and Erestor sighed.

“Still, Lord Aeglirar handles most of it.”

“And you’ve got Airondis. Trust me when I say this, Erestor, nobody has as much training in diplomacy as you do,” she said seriously and he quieted. “How is she, by the way?”

“As usual,” he murmured. “Fuingael is currently standing guard at the border, and I’m too busy, so she’s been staying with Dinethar. Which is a blessing, because I wouldn’t know how to find the time to look after Lord Glorfindel.”

“I’ll come by tonight, if that’s alright with you?”

“Tinnim!” A loud yell reached them and they both startled. Erestor sat up quickly.

“Lord Aeglirar is calling you.”

She laughed as she stood. “I noticed, Torlenn. Do we have a date?”

“You can always come by, you know that.”

She smiled and went to join her superior while Erestor sank back onto the bench, closing his eyes and trying to prolong the last few moments before he would have to face Glorfindel once more.

☼

“Lord Erestor.”

A short bow followed the greeting, and Erestor reciprocated, his stomach fluttering uncomfortably. There was no outward sign that Glorfindel was still thinking about yesterday’s dressing-down.

_‘He is. Trust me.’_

He tried not to listen to the voice and took a deep breath. He could not put it off any longer. “Lord Glorfindel, you may already have heard that Lord Rhidawar returned an hour ago. Given the circumstances, I think I should introduce you to him as soon as possible. If you would come with me?”

Without a word, Glorfindel fell in step. Erestor’s heart was beating in his throat, and he found himself hoping that Rhidawar might be in the training yards instead of his writing room. Or with Lord Elrond. Or …

The moment he opened the door to said writing room though, and beheld Maethbron’s and Estelaer’s faces, he knew that the meeting of the two lords was going to happen right here, right now.

“Lord Erestor! Lord Glorfindel.” Maethbron jumped up and bowed deeply; Estelaer was a little slower with her curtsy and looked to the floor in embarrassment when Glorfindel’s cool gaze met hers. Erestor took another deep breath. “Lord Glorfindel, you already know Maethbron. May I present Estelaer, my personal scribe?”

An almost indiscernible twitch in the body beside him. “Your scribe?”

“Yes.” Erestor did not elaborate. Someone was moving behind the second door and the next moment, it flew open.

Rhidawar Sigilion was tall, even for an Elf, yet so thin he would’ve looked lanky, had he not moved with the grace and confidence of a big cat. The young scribes and councillors often commented – behind the safety of their hands and in whispers – that his stare was a fair match for Heleth’s, and that his temper was even worse than Certhdinen’s when enraged.

He was hardly, if ever, properly enraged, something Erestor was well aware of after decades as the man’s personal scribe, but Rhidawar was very good at creating that impression, especially with the younger scribes. He did have a temper, that much was true, yet calmed down fairly quickly. Erestor himself had only seen him really angry two times, these occasions taking place during council meetings. On both of those, only respect for Elrond had prevented deaths.

Now Erestor had good reasons to fear that at least one death was unavoidable without Elrond nearby. The glare Rhidawar levelled at Glorfindel was filled with venom and disgust. He crossed his arms, looked his replacement over from top to bottom, and Erestor just _knew_ that one of the others had told Rhidawar exactly how Glorfindel had been treating Erestor.

There would be a death.

“So you are Lord Glorfindel o Gondolin.”

Glorfindel bent his head in wordless assent.

“So I’ve been told that you’ve been in Imladris for a few days already. How come, I wonder, that this is the first time you’ve stepped into this writing room? Or met up with the other council members? Or are we upstart lords and ladies below your notice, Lord of the House of the Golden Flower?”, Rhidawar continued. The three younger Elves flinched. Erestor looked at Maethbron pleadingliy, but he shook his head. Glorfindel was positioned such that he could not sneak past him to fetch Elrond. Estelaer was taking refuge behind her desk, her eyes wide with fear.

For one moment, Erestor was furious at Rhidawar. Mayhap his anger was justified, but he knew quite well how scared Estelaer was of his temper tantrums. He had learned to reign himself in since the young woman had started to work for them to compensate for Erestor’s frequent absences.

And now this.

The fury grew and was directed at Glorfindel.

“I was not told I was obliged to constantly be in the writing rooms.”

Rhidawar gave a derisive snort at the cool answer. “Oh, no, you aren’t _obliged_ to anything, Lord Glorfindel. After all, you are the balrog-slayer, are you not? You don’t have to bother with paperwork, council members or, horror of horrors, simple scribes. Apparently your heroic deed exempts you from everything, even basic politeness.”

It was very, very quiet for one moment. Then Glorfindel’s icy voice broke through the silence. “Given that this is the first time we have met, Lord Rhidawar, you sure are quick to judge me.”

Rhidawar stubbornly pushed out his chin. “I only have to take one look at Lord Erestor to know that you haven’t been polite to him at the very least. Let me tell you, Lord Glorfindel, I do not take kindly to impoliteness towards my personal scribe. Lord Erestor is my right and left hand, and I depend upon him. You are the one keeping him from his duties without sparing any thought to the fact that he has more important things to do but be at your beck and call.”

Estelaer put a hand in front of her mouth to stifle her gasp and ducked behind her desk when Glorfindel’s eyes darkened dangerously. “I believe it was Lord Elrond himself who offered me his chief councillor’s company. I do not know how this is any of your concern, Lord Rhidawar.”

Rhidawar narrowed his eyes. “It is my concern because Lord Elrond is borrowing his chief councillor from me, Lord Glorfindel, and he does so because he appreciates him as much as I do. Apparently he was wrong though, thinking that you would be polite enough to try and muster some understanding for our situation.”

Erestor’s insides almost froze as a frosty glare met him. “I assume it was your right hand then who complained to you about me?”

Rhidawar growled and Erestor saw Estelaer pale. “Lord Erestor would rather bite his own tongue off than speak badly about someone under his charge! Do not dare to insult him with such an insinuation!”

“Who else would complain about it then?”

Rhidawar laughed out loud at the reply. “Who else? I see, our new general is too above us to be polite, but still interested in the things said behind his back about him! Maethbron, Estelaer, can you believe it?”

“Who?”, snapped Glorfindel and Rhidawar narrowed his eyes again.

“Even the birds in the trees have been talking about it, Lord Glorfindel. A complaint, regardless of who it came from, wouldn’t tell me anything I didn’t already know. Enough people here and in the outer settlements have borne witness to how you’ve been treating him. And let me tell you – they like it as little as I do.”

Glorfindel stared at Rhidawar so hard that Erestor was sure the latter was going to crumble into dust any moment.

But Rhidawar refused to, instead returned the glare with doubled intensity.

The door slammed shut. Glorfindel was gone. All three young Elves gasped as one. Estelaer sank down on her chair, pale as a linen sheet, and Maethbron hurried to get her a glass of water. Erestor turned towards Rhidawar, uncertain whether he should thank his lord or reprimand him. Gently and respectfully, but decidedly all the same.

“Lord Rhidawar -”, he began, unsure, then stopped in surprise as the old man pulled him into a fierce hug.

“Don’t let him get to you, my boy”, he whispered into Erestor’s ear. “These old lords aren’t any different than us. They only cook with water and fight with iron. Show him what’s what. You’re worth just as much as he.”

☼

His hands shook as he straightened out his tunic and took a deep breath. He was going to ask Elrond for an audience tonight. Rhidawar, he knew, would not do that, therefore it was up to Erestor to inform the Lord of the Valley of the – altercation between the current and future general.

“I was not attempting to insult you. My – actions have nothing to do with you.”

Erestor flinched so hard that he almost stumbled back a step. Glorfindel gazed at him from cool blue eyes, nothing hinting at the storm they had shown earlier.

The short bow following the words had Erestor almost taking a step back. “I hope you will accept my apologies and excuse my lack of politeness, Lord Erestor.”

He pulled himself together and returned the bow. “Lord Rhidawar tends to exaggerate, Lord Glorfindel. I have no reason not to accept your apology.”

No, he did not. Only because he had no desire to disappoint Elrond, though.

Glorfindel rose and gave him an indecipherable look. “Is there anything important left that I should know about the valley and its inhabitants? If so, please let me know now so you can return to your duties. As I said yesterday, I shall acquaint myself with the situation myself from now on.”

“I – there are still things you need to know.” Erestor pulled himself upright, inside and outward. “I should assisst you during the first few weeks. Especially where the watch duty schedule is concerned. We have a rather difficult system.”

The arrogant look returned to the eyes. “Your offer is kind. I believe I am well acquainted with a general’s administrative duties, though. Including how to draw up a schedule.”

_More familiar than you._ Erestor ground his teeth. “In that case, I believe I have nothing else to say to you, Lord Glorfindel. My best wishes for you, and you know where to find me in case you have questions.”

Another bow, as stiff and precise as the first. “My thanks for your kindness, Lord Erestor.”

“Anytime, Lord Glorfindel.”

He could not help staring at the man’s back when he walked away. This had not gone as imagined. At all.

Fear took a hold of him. He had failed. Glorfindel hardly knew more than the most important details. If Erestor didn’t take action, the man would fail triumphantly once he actually took Rhidawar’s place.

And it would be Erestor’s fault.

He could not tell Elrond. He could not burden the Lord of the Valley with even more problems.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hurray, Berry finally found the time to upload her map of Imladris! That only took a few years … Anyhow, here is the link: http://fav.me/ddoa377, and you’ll find her DA profile under Goldbeeberry. Enjoy!
> 
> Also, just to give you a heads-up, there are a few other graphs showing the relationships between the most important characters, but those come with a big SPOILER ALERT. So in your own interest, give those a miss until you’ve made it through chapter 8 at least, then there shouldn’t be any danger any more.

The knock at the door caused him to startle and a thick drop of ink fell onto the white parchment in front of him. “Enter!” he called as he hurried to remove it, cursing inwardly.

“Lord Erestor? Could I borrow a few moments of your time?”

_‘Lord Elrond. Oh no.'_

Erestor forced himself to smile. “Of course, Mylord. How can I be of service?”

The Lord of the Valley sat down in front of his desk and gazed at him searchingly. “I believe this time I should be asking you that question, Lord Erestor. You know how much I appreciate you and your work, but I’ve been made aware that you are hardly leaving your writing room any more, while Lord Glorfindel is wandering Imladris by himself. Is that true?”

He tried to wave it off, embarrassed. “Well, a lot of work was left lying around while I was showing Lord Glorfindel around, and he positively insisted that he was going to be fine on his own from now on …”

“Lord Erestor.” Elrond’s face was very serious. “Lord Rhidawar has informed me of what has transpired in the past few weeks. Is it true?”

He sat frozen. Elrond heaved a sigh. “You do not have to answer. I know you well enough to know that you would only tell me half of what took place anyway. I do not blame you. What little has reached my ears speaks loud and clearly. Do forgive me if I am too forward – Lord Erestor, I have no use for a general who doesn’t know what he’s doing and refuses to take responsibility for our guards. Grateful as I am to the Valar for returning Lord Glorfindel to us, I cannot and will not risk our safety, which in turn puts me in an awkward position. I can hardly ignore the Lord of the House of the Golden Flower, no matter my personal opinion about his suitability for the task.”

He took a short breath while Erestor sat as if doused with cold water. “This leaves me with only one choice. Should Lord Glorfindel refuse to take over Lord Rhidawar’s duties as general, I will appoint you as the new general, and Lord Glorfindel as my new chief councillor.”

“What?”

It burst out of him, and Erestor knew that his shock was visible on his face as well. Elrond’s expression was one of deep concern. “Lord Erestor, please believe me, I wouldn’t be happy doing it. I would see you as my chief councillor.You know everything and everyone in this valley, and your parents’ achievements have equipped you with all necessary skills – yet in a worst-case situation, I couldn’t choose otherwise. I cannot lose you and I cannot ignore Lord Glorfindel, and I’m consulting with you on this matter because you are my designated chief councillor, and I need your advice and support.”

“I’m no general, Lord Elrond! My father, he might have been -”

Elrond gave a slight nod. “I know, Lord Erestor. Believe me, it will be my last option, and I won’t do it unless I’m left with no other choice.” He rose. “Take two days off, and please consider if you can find it in yourself to continue teaching Lord Glorfindel our ways. I would ask it from you as a favour, as the Lord of the Valley, and for all of those who call it home. Rest assured that regardless of his words, everyone here, not least myself, hold a very different opinion about you.”

He smiled rather tiredly. “And please accept my heartfelt gratitude for everything you have done so far. I shan’t forget.”

Erestor only moved after he had heard the door to Elrond’s own writing room close behind the lord. Like a puppet on strings he stood, put aside the quill and the letter he had been working on, and stood.

Two days. Two days to decide whether he was going try working with Glorfindel once more, or become Imladris’ new general.

Instinctively he turned in the direction of Dinethar’s house.

Airondis.

Without having seen her, he wouldn’t make any decisions.

☼

“Here you are. Hid yourself well, didn’t you?”

Lindir plopped down on the bench next to him and stretched out his legs. “Estelaer says Lord Elrond gave you two days off?”

Erestor gave a nod and kept his gaze on Airondis, who had squatted down and was watching a jackdaw without moving. The bird had its nest in the wall and was busy picking up the grains they had thrown it earlier.

“What do you need two days for? What do you have to think about?”

He turned his head towards his friend and sighed. “I cannot talk about it, Lindir.”

“It’s about Lord Glorfindel, isn’t it?” Lindir’s face showed disgust. “That man is unbelievable. This morning he got into a fight with Tinnim.”

“Tin!”

“Calm down, Restor!” Lindir’s hand prevented him from jumping up. “It wasn’t that bad, she was just very annoyed.”

He sank back. Lindir cast his eyes down. “Restor, concerning Tin … I have to ask you something.”

“Airondis! Stop right there, you’re gonna scare the jackdaw! Leave it be!”

She looked back at him and returned to where she’d sat before. Erestor sighed. “Yes?”

“Are you going to bond with her?”

He was so nonplussed he started laughing. “What? How in Arda did you hit upon that thought, Lindir? Tin and I? Bond? That’s -”

“You’ve known each other for an eternity, and you know each other well. She’s been like your sister for years. Everyone can tell how much you love each other,” was Lindir’s reply and Erestor quieted.

“Of course I love Tin,” he said. “But not that way, Lindir! She’s my sister!”

“She’s not your sister, Restor, and she helps with Airondis any way she can. She’s been at yours or Dinethar’s, wherever Airondis was, every day since her return.”

He was silent. Lindir heaved a sigh. “I’m sorry, Restor. I shouldn’t have said anything. You probably have enough to worry about without me bringing this up. Forgive me.”

“Why are you asking about this now?” His voice was quiet and Lindir’s fists clenched.

“She was – I can’t explain it, Restor. She was gone and I -”

“You were worried about her.”

His friend nodded and stood. Erestor grasped his arm and stopped him. “Lindir, you’re asking for a reason, aren’t you? You weren’t just worried about Tin when we heard that the Orcs were marching on Eryn Tithen.”

His friend turned his face away. “I’d never want to come in between the two of you, Erestor.”

WIth that, he escaped from the grip and disappeared as quickly as he could. Erestor stared at his retreating back and felt his stomach drop. No, this really hadn’t been a good time to bring up the topic.

Lord Elrond, Lord Glorfindel, Lindir – everyone appeared to be conspiring against him.

“Airondis? Come here, let’s go home.”

☼

Usually he could simply fall back on work, focus his thoughts on his duties, and it worked. This time, it didn’t. Every time he thought he had succeeded, Glorfindel appeared in front of his inner eye, followed by Lindir and Tinnim.

Sighing, Erestor closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead. _‘Get back to work!'_ he told himself sternly. _‘By the day after tomorrow you have to know whether you want to be general or chief councillor!'_

Maybe a cup of tea would help. He got up, walked into the adjoining room and couldn’t stop the angry yell. “Airondis!”

Colours were all over the walls of the dining room. Erestor stared at them in shock, then looked at the culprit. Airondis had startled at his yell, was cowering in the corner now and looked frightened.

Staying angry at her was impossible. He couldn’t yell at her or be angry when she looked like he was about to hit her.

He took a deep breath, stepped up to her and took her hand, smiled. “Airondis, you know you’re supposed to only draw on your blackboard with your colours, don’t you?” he said softly, leading her back to her room. The blackboard was lying forgotten on the floor, just as he’d suspected. He picked it up and returned it to her. “There you are. You can draw on this, but not on our walls, please. Alright?”

Her face brightened. “I can draw a rainbow! Shall I draw a rainbow?”

“Yes, that’s a good idea, darling. Draw me a beautiful rainbow.” He made her sit down on her bed, handed her the other colours. She was already busy drawing when he left the room. With a deep sigh, he fetched a bucket with water from the kitchen and started cleaning the walls.

Suddenly Glorfindel’s face appeared in front of him again, out of nowhere. The expression of shock, the twitch of his fingers. Erestor lowered the rag and cursed inwardly. Why couldn’t the arrogant, cold twat have stayed in Mandos’s Halls?

A knock at the door pulled him from his angry musings. “Just a moment!” he called, as he wiped his hands clean and opened the door. “Tin!”

Immediately his thoughts returned to Lindir, but those were much easier to put aside than those about Glorfindel. Especially when Tinnim giggled and stepped inside. “Good evening, Torlenn. I thought I’ve been away for so long that you wouldn’t mind me coming by again tonight. Is Airondis here?”

“She’s in her room, hopefully drawing on her blackboard only.” Erestor heaved a sigh, led her further inside and pointed at the wall. “I know it’s only chalk, but it’s got to be cleaned all the same.”

“I’ll take care of it,” Tinnim said immediately. “Make some tea, Torlenn, I’ll take care of everything else. Then we can all have dinner together, what do you think?”

It felt as if a great weight had been taken off his shoulders, and his smile was both grateful and honest. “That’s a great idea, Tin. You’re wonderful.”

“I owe you and Airondis a lot, Torlenn.”

“You don’t owe us anything,” he said as he went into the kitchen and started preparing dinner. Steps in the corridor told him that Airondis had heard their visitor. Tinnim made no reply to his words, opting to greet Airondis warmly instead. When Erestor returned to the dining room to serve dinner, Airondis was busy helping Tinnim wash the chalk off the walls, beaming with joy and splashing with the water. Tinnim didn’t mind getting wet in the process; she laughed and occasionally intervened before Airondis could create too much chaos.

“Dinner is served. Are you coming?”

☼

“Would you prefer apple or chamomile tea, Torlenn?”

He looked up from the dishes and smiled. “Since you’re asking – apple, please. Thank you, Tin.”

She stepped up to him to kiss his cheek. “I told you already, Torlenn, you don’t have to thank me for that.”

Her touch brought back the memory of Lindir’s question. Erestor lowered the rag and stared into the water. Tinnim stopped. “Erestor?”

He pulled himself together. “Tinnim, have you ever thought about bonding?”

She took a surprised step backwards. “Bonding? Erestor, what is going through that head of yours? We’ll soon be appointed as council members. Bonding is the last thing on my mind at present. Besides, who should I bond with?”

He stayed silent. She appeared to be thinking, stepping closer hesitantly. “Restor … are you …”

“I’ve been asked whether the two of us were going to bond,” he said quietly. “Forgive me, but I can’t tell you by whom.”

She seemed on the verge of saying something, but refrained and nodded instead. “I see. And that is bothering you, Torlenn?”

He heaved a sigh. “That and Lord Glorfindel. Tin, I – Lord Elrond knows about his fight with Lord Rhidawar.”

“Torlenn, by mid-afternoon everyone in Imladris knew about their fight,” she said softly. “Just like everyone knew how he was treating you. You cannot keep something like that quiet in a settlement like Imladris. Lord Elrond would’ve heard about it sooner or later anyway.”

“Of course.” Resignedly, he threw the rag on the table and turned to her. “What everyone won’t have heard though, is that Lord Elrond is now doubting whether Lord Glorfindel is the right man for Lord Rhidawar’s position.”

Tinnim was smart enough to understand the implications without him elaborating, and took a sharp breath. “Erestor, you cannot -”

“And I don’t want to, either!” He raised his arms, helpless, and she took his hand.

“Torlenn, Lord Elrond won’t force you if you don’t want to do it.”

“But who else could? Maethbron is too young and inexperienced, burdening Estelaer like that is out of the question, not even Lindir would be able to do it! I’m the only one left!”

“When will he make his decision?” she asked, and he shrugged.

“Around Jul at the latest, I guess. When we’ll become official members of the council. At that point he’ll have to announce which position each of us is going to hold in the future.”

Tinnim nodded. “You still have time, Torlenn.”

“What am I supposed to do, Tin? How am I supposed to convince Lord Glorfindel to accept a position he doesn’t want?”

“It’s not as if it’s his decision to make,” she said coolly. “He was sent back to help Lord Elrond in Imladris. It is his duty, and he has to fulfil it, whether he likes it or not.”

Surprised at her tone he looked up, only to meet steely resolve in her expression. “Tin?”

“I’m neither the oldest nor the most severe member of the council, nobody would call me either. However, nobody could accuse me of not knowing what it’s like to fulfil duties I detest, either. I respect and admire Lord Glorfindel for what he did during his first life. Yet I have to tell you, I didn’t know him back then. My future opinion of and respect for him depends largely on how he’s going to act in the future and whether he’s going to accept his responsibilities. I fully understand that he’s unhappy and -”

“Unhappy?” Erestor only realised a moment later that he’d spoken aloud. Tinnim stopped speaking and he hurried to rephrase his question. “Why would Lord Glorfindel be unhappy?”

Tinnim’s expression softened. “I cannot even begin to imagine how difficult it must be for him to have been sent back the way he was, Erestor. He left this world centuries ago, and upon returning doesn’t know anyone. Everything has changed, the cities he knew have ceased to exist, his loved ones are dead … Try to understand. Remember how our parents struggled.”

For the blink of an eye, shocked blue eyes appeared in Erestor’s mind, but he shook them off with a shake of his head. “Our parents never were as impolite as he, Tin.”

“Try to understand,” she begged, cradling his cheeks in order to catch his eyes. „Think of Airondis.”

“I’ve been thinking about her all this time!” Angry, he turned away and hid his face in his hands for a moment. “I’ve been thinking about little else since -”

“Since what?” Tinnim was beside him in a flash and forced him to look at her again. “Erestor, are you hiding her from him?”

“What else am I supposed to do?” Even to his own ears he sounded helpless and desperate. “I hardly know anything about her, about those times! I mean, look at her, Tinnim! Look at her and tell me how I could subject her to this!”

“Subject her to what? Erestor!” Tinnim sounded shocked herself. “Who or what would you be subjecting her to?”

“What if they knew each other? What if he knows who she was? And now she’s – she’s – like this! He’d make fun of her the way he makes fun of me! Doubly so if he did know her. I’m going to prevent that by all means!” Erestor spat and his friend went silent.

A loud crash broke the silence, followed by a high-pitched scream.

They were at the door in a flash, but froze in it. Airondis stood in the middle of a pile of shards, the remains of the dishes stacked on the table.

_‘She pulled on the tablecloth. The whole pile fell down.'_

“Oi. It wasn’t me!” Airondis stammered, eyes wide, wringing her hands. She tried to take a step forward and stopped. “I didn’t do anything!”

“Airondis, stay still! Don’ŧ move!” Tinnim hurried forward and stilled Airondis before she could set her naked foot into the shards. “Erestor!”

With a last, tremendous effort he pulled himself together. _‘Only this,'_ he told himself grimly. _‘Only this, and then you can go to bed and this day will finally end.'_

“It’s alright, Airondis,” he murmured, stepped forward and held out his arms. “Don’t be scared. I’ll pick you up, alright?”

She made to move back and was again stopped by Tinnim’s hands. “I don’t want to.”

“Airondis, you’re standing in a pile of broken dishes, and your feet are naked.” His patience was going to wear thin. Soon. In only a few moments. Tinnim sent him a pleading look and he tried to calm himself. “Let me pick you up, please?”

Airondis gave a hesitant nod, but allowed him to encircle her waist and lift her out of the shards. Once up on his arms, she giggled and wrapped an arm around his neck. “Where are we going, Felaforn?”

He swallowed dryly. “I’ll carry you to your bed, Airondis,” he replied. “Where you can sleep until tomorrow morning. Tin, please leave.”

She disappeared without another word. Airondis played with his hair, nuzzled his neck and kissed him. Erestor shuddered. “Fel? You’ll be joining me soon, won’t you?”

He wanted to scream. “Of course. I just have to take care of a few things beforehand. Go ahead and lie down, will you?”

Carefully he set her down on her bed and opened her plaits. “I don’t want you to wait up for me.”

“Mhm.” She hugged his waist, and for a moment Erestor let his head rest on top of hers before he freed himself and gently pushed her back onto the pillows. “Now go to sleep.”

She lay back without resistance and closed her eyes. He kept looking at her for another few moments, considered undressing her – and then decided he simply didn’t have the patience to change her clothing tonight. Besides, he had only put her in that dress this morning, and it was made of soft fabric; she should be just fine sleeping in it.

He tucked the covers around her, sank to his knees beside the bed and put his head on them.

_‘Why, Nana? Why, why, why?”_


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before you start reading, I just want to let you know that whatever comments you leave on this translation will be passed on to the original author, Goldbeere, even if it’s a complaint about the quality of the translation ;-) As a translator, I obviously have no influence whatsoever on the story arc, but since I’m also the beta-reader of the original German story, I’ll make sure to pass on whatever comments you may have about that as well.  
That said, Goldbeere and I very much encourage all kinds of feedback and thank you very much for leaving it!

“Lord Glorfindel, good morning. I hope you slept well.”

Erestor felt no little satisfaction at the surprise on Glorfindel’s face. The lord caught himself immediately, however, and gave a stiff bow. “Lord Erestor. To what do I owe the honour?”

“This.” Disregarding the other lord’s attempts at barring him entrance to his rooms, Erestor pushed through the door and dumped the rolls on the writing desk. A big, good writing desk, suited to the demands of the future general of Imladris. Erestor was proud of this desk. His own in the writing room beside Elrond’s looked exactly the same. Cenednur and his workers had done excellent work, based on Erestor’s drawings.

“What is -”

“Plans,” he interrupted Glorfindel, took the ink jar and set it down on one corner of the plan. “A plan of Eryn Tithe, to be precise. Since the Orcs marched on this particular settlement, we’ll take a closer look at this one first.”

Silence. Erestor found another ink jar in his pocket, put it on the second corner and went to the bookshelf to find two books for the last two corners. “I’ve already received the first reports, so I’m fairly certain I can reconstruct the attack and strategies of both the Orcs and Lord Rhidawar.”

He turned around and met an inscrutable look from blue-grey eyes.

Silence. Deep, stifling, oppressive silence.

Glorfindel broke it by turning around abruptly, closing the door and joining him at the writing desk. He uttered no word, but Erestor smiled in satisfaction as he started describing the unsuccessful attack on Eryn Tithen.

☼

He had not expected the taciturn Elf to speak again on that day, but to his surprise the miracle happened when he gave them a small break. He had to drink something before he began describing Rhidawar’s strategy.

“How many Elves live in the attacked settlement?”

Erestor turned around and hid his surprise by handing Glorfindel the glass of water. “Eryn Tithen has approximately 500 inhabitants. Some hundred more during winter.”

“Where from?”

“The hunters and guards from all around,” Erestor explained, pointing to several red dots on the map. “Since Eryn Tithen is such an important settlement, we have several big outposts for the border guards close by. During winter, about half the guards are stationed in the settlement itself, while the rest is doing duty at the outposts.”

The lord scrutinised the map. “Who makes up the border guards?”

Erestor shrugged. “Like every other border guard, it’s our men who do their duty there. Everyone has to do guard duty in regular intervals. They patrol the surrounding mountains and plains. Besides that, we also have a system made up of outposts and watchtowers, by means of which we can spot Orcs early on.”

“How does it work?”

“We use flags, but also fires.”

The next question shook him off-balance, and he inwardly cursed himself for actually flinching and almost spilling his water.

“What is your relationship to Lord Rhidawar?”

Erestor pulled himself together. “He is my lord.”

“His defense of you was more than the defense of a favourite scribe.”

Glorfindel’s voice was devoid of inflection, a statement. Erestor was unable to read between the lines. He did not look at the lord when he answered. “My father and Lord Rhidawar fought together in Eregion.”

“Your father! Why isn’t he part of the council?”

For the first time, the surprise was obvious in the voice. Erestor carefully kept his eyes on the map. “That would be impossible. He was killed by Orcs soon after Lord Elrond founded Imladris.”

Silence.

“How old are you, Lord Erestor?”

“I was born shortly after Eregion was founded.” Now Erestor glared at Glorfindel in warning. “If my course of life is the only topic of interest to you in Imladris, I can provide you with a written version. Would you prefer it listed in tabular form, or should I give details?”

Immediately the expression shuttered, the eyes turned cold. “Thank you for the offer.”

“Fine. Could we please return to Eryn Tithen and the attack, then?” Erestor waited a beat. Only when he was certain that Glorfindel would refrain from asking any more personal questions, did he speak again. “About 200 trained and armed guards were stationed in the immediate vicinity of Eryn Tithen, additionally Lord Rhidawar could use some 200 more men from Eryn Tithen itself. They were under the settlement leader’s command, Einior.”

He put his glass down and crossed his arms. “Well, Lord Glorfindel, what would you have done?”

A slightly scornful look was cast in his direction. Erestor prepared himself for yet another comment about Glorfindel’s familiarity with a general’s duties, but the man was already leaning over the map. His expression became focused, and Erestor had to admit that in this moment, Glorfindel really looked like a General of Gondolin.

☼

“Restor! We missed you during lunch!” Ferithil jumped up from her seat and took his hand to tug him towards their customary table. Tinnim’s warm smile added to Erestor’s feeling of triumph, although Lindir right beside here put a damper on it again. “Mirfuin claimed you were sitting in Lord Glorfindel’s room and working with him.”

“She was right, Ithil,” he replied, amused, and enjoyed her expression of disbelief.

“I thought he told you to go to Mordor!”

Lindir pushed a cup in his direction wordlessly and Erestor took a sip before proclaiming his triumph. “That’s be as it may, but who am I to take orders from him?”

Clapping behind them made them spin around. Rhidawar stepped up to them and patted Erestor’s shoulder. Certhdinen, as well, gave him a proud nod.

“That’s the right approach, Erestor,” the general rumbled happily. “Never roll over for those big lords. Not everyone’s like Lord Elrond, and you’ll have to deal with each and every one of those arrogant twats. The secret is to never back down, never show weakness and to always look into their eyes. Everyone can be born with a title, living up to it is a different kettle of fish.”

Certhdinen’s mouth twitched, and she put a hand on Rhidawar’s arm. “Still, Rhidawar, a little bit of diplomacy never goes amiss,” she reminded him gently and winked at Erestor. “I very much doubt that you and Lord Glofindel will manage to become friends after what you said to him.”

Rhidawar laughed out loud. “You should’ve seen his face, Certhdinen! I bet no one’s ever talked to the brat like that!”

Her mouth twitched again. “Make your bets with your soldiers, Rhidawar, and don’t make too many enemies.”

“I’ll soon be gone.” The general waved it off and squeezed Erestor’s shoulder once more. “Erestor, you know where to find me in case you need backup. Other than that, I won’t engage with Lord Gorfindel again. Agreed?”

“You should speak to him at least one more.” Erestor had a bad feeling about this, but he also felt compelled to say it. “There are matters where I wasn’t involved in making a decision, or not even present, like in Eryn Tithen.”

“I trust you completely, Erestor.” But Rhidawar might have seen something in his expression, Erestor wasn’t certain. In any case, he added, “But if you say so, I’ll make sure to speak to him about it.”

“You’re our hero, Erestor!” Ferithil whispered as the two older councillors made their way toward Lord Elrond, who had just entered the hall. Erestor waved it off, but his stomach grew pleasantly warm.

Said warmth helped dispel the ice of Glorfindel’s silence when during the following days, he kept knocking on the man’s door every morning, a big map in his hand, and forced his way inside.

☼

“Torlenn!”

Tinnim halted her steps, looked at her scribe and sent her on with a wave before she went to join Erestor. “Are you on your way to Lord Glorfindel?”

“We are going to look at the rivers and their role in Imladris’ defense.” Erestor adjusted his grip on the maps and grimaced. “I just wish he’d agree to work in his future writing room. But since the incident with Lord Rhidawar, he hasn’t even gone near it. Maethbron and Estelaer have to carry everything to his rooms, unless I fetch it. Which in most cases is far quicker.”

Tinnim smiled, but he could tell she had a different concern. “Torlenn, how is Airondis?”

The maps were forgotten. Erestor lowered his gaze and bit down on his lip. “She’s … good.”

“Has she been -” Tinnim searched for words. He shook his head and she relaxed slightly. “Can I come over tonight? Please, Torlenn!” she added when his expression shuttered. “Please. I haven’t seen her in almost a week now.”

He couldn’t refuse. “Of course. Come over.”

She smiled, reached up and kissed his cheek. “Thank you, Torlenn. I’ll see you tonight.”

“Aren’t you going to be at lunch?” he called after her and she waved at him.

“I won’t make it. Lord Aeglirar and I have to write to Eryn Galen, urgently. See you tonight, Torlenn!”

He turned around with a deep sigh just in time to see Lindir leaving the shadows of the opposing hallway. Anxiety surged. His friend tried to smile. “See, like I told you. Tinnim loves you and Airondis.”

Suddenly Erestor felt anger more than anxiety, and straightened his back. “She also loves Naurang and Aegalad. So what?”

“Naurang and Aegalad are her father and brother,” Lindir replied only to immediately lower his eyes. “Forgive me, Restor. Jealousy isn’t nice.”

“Additionally, it’s completely without justification.” Erestor stepped closer to Lindir so he could speak more quietly. “I’m telling you, Tinnim has more pressing concerns than bonding with someone. And the same goes for me. I have enough on my hands with Lord Glorfindel and Airondis. And even if that weren’t the case, Tinnim wouldn’t be the woman I’d choose.”

“Oh, so who would be, then?” Lindir rejoined sharply, and Erestor silenced. “Ithil? Mirfuin? Or maybe Ninui? She looks like Ithil, but is more like Tinnim in character, maybe she’d find your approval? If you ask Ithil nicely, she’d surely invite her little sister to Imladris, especially after the attack on Eryn Tithen.”

“Stop talking nonsense, Lindir! I have no desire to bond with either Tinnim or Ithil, and very much none to bond with Ninui! I hardly remember what she looks like!”

“You -”

Someone cleared their throat behind them and they spun around. Glorfindel stood in the middle of the hallway, looking at Erestor. “Lord Erestor. You were a long time fetching those maps.”

“I’ll be with you at once.” Erestor went to him, hissing “I don’t want to talk about it anymore, Lindir! Tinnim isn’t going to bond with anyone, neither me nor you, and that’s all!” at Lindir in passing.

☼

“I do not think it would work.” Erestor crossed his arms and sent a challenging look at the lord opposite to him. “Not by a long shot. Forgive my scepticism, Lord Glorfindel, but -”

“Shall I prove it to you?” The blue eyes met his gaze, cool and self-assured. Glorfindel was wrapped in an aura of calm superiority which Erestor despised and admired in equal parts. During these meetings, with only the two of them present, he had come to understand that Glorfindel did, in fact, know a general’s work inside-out. Maybe even better than Rhidawar, but that he would never admit aloud. His loyalty to his lord was far too great for that.

“Please, be my guest!”

He could have sworn that Glorfindel almost smiled triumphantly for a moment.

“In that case, we shall have to ride to the Bruinen, Lord Erestor. One can say and plan many things on a map, but it is out in the field where one has to make it work.”

Erestor knew that he lost colour rapidly. “You want to ride to the Bruinen? Now?”

“Why not?” Glorfindel looked at the window, then back at Erestor, challenging him. “There is still enough light. We can be back by dawn if we ride now.”

“I -” Erestor stopped himself, made a resigned gesture and forced himself to swallow the lump in his throat. “After you, Lord Glorfindel.”

☼

He would’ve loved to turn back. But that would’ve made him look like a frightened child. So he stayed put while Glorfinde explained his strategy to him in short words and even shorter, decisive gestures. Despite the gushing waters arresting his gaze, Erestor forced himself to look back at the lord again and again. As long as he kept looking at him and concentrated on his words, he could ignore the falling waters.

Yet it got more difficult with each moment. He had felt sick since they came out here, and the spot Glorfindel had led him to now made him shudder. He had no choice but to follow the Gondoledhel, though.

“Lord Erestor. Are you unwell?”

His head jerked up and stared at the man. The eyes showed no concern, yet the question had been asked. “No. No, I am well. It’s just -”

“You’re white as a sheet. Has your conversation with Lord Lindir shaken you so much?” The voice was harsh, and he could only silently shake his head. “What is it then? Do you suffer of vortex?”

“No!” Erestor took a deep breath. “No, it is not-”

Fabric moving in the wind caught his attention in the corner of his eye. He broke off in the middle of the word, jerked around, and the lord in front of him was forgotten. Erestor froze.

“For the love of – Airondis! Airondis!”

He had broken into a run before he had remembered that this was what he should do, slid down the narrow path to the river and called loudly for Airondis once more, who was following the river without paying heed to the danger of the rushing waters, even jumping and skipping.

“Airondis, stop! Stop! Dinethar! Dinethar!”

She turned around, an expression of surprise on her face. His foot caught on something, he stumbled, twisting it, Erestor felt the biting pain, but he kept running, praying to the Valar to protect her, to -

“Who are you?”

He wanted to scream at her, shake her, grab her and shake her like a young dog, but he did not. Instead he broke to his knees in front of her, reached for her with his hands and sobbed.

The next moment, arms embraced him and he was pressed against a soft chest. “Don’t cry, my darling, it’ll be over in a moment,” a voice whispered into his ear, known like no other. “It was only a nightmare, my jewel, my darling, just a nightmare. Don’t cry, Hengol.”

He returned the embrace and held on to her. Sometimes, on rare occasions, which he could neither foresee nor make occur, she remembered. Then she knew who she was and who he was, then she was back to being herself and -

“Who are you?”

The shrillness of her voice and the sudden shivers of her body returned him to himself. Quickly he turned around and tightened his grip on the woman, who instinctively was trying to retreat from the strange man standing a few steps behind them. He was staring at her with an expression of such horror on his face that Erestor hardly knew what to do or say for a moment. Dinethar’s voice unfroze him.

“Airondis! Lord Erestor! Forgive me! Forgive me, Lord Erestor!” She came running from the other direction, tears in her eyes, her hair in disarray. “I took her and Gillos for a walk around the stores, and suddenly she was gone! I turned around just for a moment, and she was gone – oh, please forgive me! It’ll never happen again, I promise!”

Slowly Erestor rose, pulling Airondis up as well, who hid behind his back and whimpered. Then he turned to Glorfindel. “Lord Glorfindel, I’m afraid we’ll have to cut our excursion short,” he said, fighting to keep it together. “I have to return my mother home. Forgive me. By the way, you convinced me. Your strategy would work.”

He did not receive a reply, turned around and gently put his arm around Airondis’ shoulders. “Come, Airondis. Let’s go home, alright?”

She followed him willingly, like a puppy, Dinethar trailing after them. Still, the expression of utter horror on Glorfindel’s face stayed on his mind throughout the whole, long, sleepless night. He did not go to Glorfindel the next day, instead he stayed in his writing rooms and took care of the correspondence.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From this chapter on, you can consult the relationship map uploaded on DA, which I’ve also added to the “Cast and crew”-chapter at the end. That should help you navigate all of the OCs. At least I hope it will …

“A Gondoledhel.”

The voice broke into his thoughts so suddenly that Erestor startled, and involuntarily drew a long line of ink across the almost-done letter. Cursing inwardly, he sanded the ink and strained his ears so he could hear what was being said in the room next door. His heart pounded. He had managed to avoid Glorfindel the whole day. Apparently, though, the Gondolin lord had decided to find his way to Elrond, now, in the later hours of the evening. Erestor was only thankful that his meeting with Elrond had ended quite some time ago. Elsewise they would’ve met in the adjoining room, and that was the last thing Erestor would be able to stand today.

Especially since the start of the conversation gave a good indication what exactly it was that Glorfindel wished to consult Elrond about.

“Whom exactly are you referring to, Lord Glorfindel?”

Elrond sounded calm and collected. Apparently he did neither mind the sudden appearance of the other lord nor his lack of politeness. He hadn’t even bothered to knock. At least, Erestor hadn’t heard it.

“Airondis. I saw her. Why did nobody tell me that there are survivors from Gondolin, right here in Imladris?”

Judging by the sounds, Elrond was putting aside his quill and closing his ink pot before answering: “How about we sit down for a moment, Lord Glorfindel? A glass of wine?”

“I don’t drink wine in the evenings.”

“Water?”

There was no reply. Erestor stood quietly, went to the door on silent feet and peeked through the crack, glad that Elrond usually left the door open so they wouldn’t have to shout when calling out to each other.

Glorfindel had sat down in one of the two seats which Elrond kept in his writing room – for visitors. The lord of the valley was just handing him a glass of water. The hand tightened around it, while Elrond poured himself some wine and sat down in his seat.

“There are Gondolin refugees in Imladris, yes,” Elrond said calmly. “Besides all the other refugees we sheltered here, most of them from Eregion.”

“Airondis is your chief councillor’s mother! She isn’t just ‘a refugee’!”

“You met her?” Elrond asked, and Erestor could see the shadow cross Glorfindel’s face.

“We met her yesterday at the Bruinen.”

Elrond gave a slow now and Erestor thanked the Valar for his ability not to let on how much this piece of information had to worry him.

“What happened to her?” Glorfindel’s voice was hard. Elrond turned his glass in his fingers.

“We aren’t quite sure. Even I cannot say for certain. After Felaforn’s death, it looked like she was going to fade, but for reasons which none of us can explain, she became -” He hesitated. “She is like a child and only rarely remembers her son. Most of the time she behaves like an Elfling.”

Glorfindel’s eyes seemed to glow. “Felaforn? Felaforn Finirwion?”

“That was his name, yes.”

The glass met the table with a loud clack. “And when, Lord Elrond, would you have told me that there are other Gondolindrim besides me?”

The Lord of the valley sighed. “Felaforn is dead, killed by Orcs.”

Glorfindel waved him off. “I already know that. Lord Erestor gave it as the reason why his father isn’t part of the council.”

A furtive smile crossed Elrond’s face. “Well, it is a good reason, is it not?”

The Gondoledhel growled. “Your chief councillor is the son of two Gondolindrim, and you kept it from me.”

“Why are you so upset about this, Lord Glorfindel?” Elrond asked gently. “Why should we have informed you of this? And why me? They are Lord Erestor’s parents. I can quite understand why he didn’t tell you about Airondis. She doesn’t remember you anyway. Or did you know her as a child?”

Erestor held his breath. His parents had never talked much about Gondolin. By the time he was born, the events had been so far in the past that he had only been able to regard them as tales, not as his parents’ story. Gondolin had been too distant, too far away, for him to see it as the place his parents had been born and grown up in. Once he came to know that Glorfindel was coming to Imladris, he had immediately decided on preventing a meeting between the man and his mother at all costs. What exactly he was afraid of, he wasn’t quite sure, yet the thought alone had made him ill from the start. And now his fears appeared to have been justified. There was a connection. Glorfindel had known his mother, and not just by hearsay either. The familiarity with which he spoke her name told Erestor that he wasn’t doing it the first time.

He should’ve asked his parents so many more things while he still had the time. He should’ve asked which house they belonged to, what their life had been like, which of the old lords they had known. So many things he had never thought about when he was a boy and they still talked about Gondolin every now and then.

Elrond was still waiting for Glorfindel’s answer, but the lord was staring darkly into the flames of the fire. Elrond sighed softly and rose to pour some more wine.

“What can you tell me about Lord Erestor’s family?”

The other lord stopped for a moment and then sat back down slowly. “Not a lot, Lord Glorfindel. You probably know more about his parents than I do.”

A short silence.

“Airondis Quingatanion. She was born shortly after Gondolin had been founded. The three daughters of the family were known as great beauties, but Airondis appears to be the only survivor. Some time before the fall, she announced her intention to bond with Felaforn Finirwion, much to the displeasure of a lot of men. Finirwe belonged to the House of the Golden Flower. My house. Felaforn’s sister Nende died defending her mother. His father Finirwe died in Gondolin under my command. Cemenare, his mother, died as soon as her daughter was dead. Felaforn went to the King when the attack started. I never saw him again.”

“You know yourself how few survived the fall,” Elrond said quietly. “Felaforn once told me that he had to slip out under the cover of darkness and fog so he could follow the other survivors. It took days before he found them.”

Glorfindel’s gesture betrayed his surprise. “He was still in the city after the fall?”

“Airondis asked him to look for her youngest sister. She had fled with Idril, but Dess Anerrine had been separated from her. She and Felaforn belonged to -”

“Tuor’s retinue. I know. I didn’t know that he made it to them on this day.” The lord stared into the fire, his gaze dark. “So Felaforn and Anerrine made it out as well.”

“They were separated from the big group of survivors when the Orcs attacked once more. After that, they attempted to reach a city or settlement, together with a few others. Dess Thinferil once said that it took weeks before they found one.”

“Thinferil?”

Elrond refilled his glass. “Di Dinethar’s aunt. She’s a little younger than Airondis.”

“I don’t know her.”

“She chose a new name after the fall.”

Glorfindel’s expression betrayed surprise. Elrond shrugged. “Airondis as well considered choosing a new name several times, and she would have if not for Felaforn’s pleas.”

Glorfindel looked at him sharply, which caused a questioning look on Elrond’s part. “Lord Glorfindel?”

“You do know that Airondis was the name given to her by her mother, don’t you?”

Now Elrond made a surprised gesture. “It was?”

“She already caused a bit of a stir in Gondolin by insisting she be called by this name,” Glorfindel replied dryly. “There were many who disapproved, but she was strong-willed even as a girl.”

Suddenly he changed topic again. “You do not know Dess Thinferil’s old name then? None of them?”

“No.”

Silence.

“Where is she? Does she live in Imladris?”

“Most of the time she patrols along our borders. Lord Rhidawar will attest that she’s one of our best rangers. Her whole family died in Gondolin, excepting Di Dinethar’s father.”

“Di Dinethar’s father?”

Elrond shrugged again. “He chose a new name as well. He was still a child when Gondolin fell. Dess Thinferil was a acquainted with the oldest sister, and joined the two younger sisters with the boy.”

“Ilinde. All three girls were given Quenya-names. Yet another oddity for which the family was known.” Staring into the flames, Glorfindel played with his glass. “Quingatan was a master craftsman. A simple man, but the best bowmaker that ever lived in Gondolin. He and his family were therefore given liberties that no other was permitted. The girls had suitors of all ages and from all stations of life. Why are neither Di Dinethar’s father nor her aunt members of the council?”

“Dess Thinferil staunchly refuses and Dir Nassaer, Di Dinethar’s father, left immediately after the fall of Eregion with his injured wife.”

Glorfindel’s voice sounded angry. “Di Dinethar cannot have been more than a child.”

“She had just turned 100,” Elrond replied calmly.

“And was permitted to bond at such a young age? Why didn’t her aunt do something?”

The lord of the valley cleared his throat. “There were – good reasons for her refraining from doing so.”

Silence. “Oh. His name is Gillos?”

Elrond smiled. “And Di Dinethar and Fuingael are very happy with him, as far as I can tell.”

“Does she watch Airondis for the sake for her aunt or Lord Erestor’s?”

Elrond hesitated. “I believe mostly for her aunt’s sake. Di Dinethar and Lord Erestor have known each other since her birth, but the two of them are – quite different.”

“She is a good wife and mother, you mean.”

“Di Dinethar has contributed her fair share to the construction of Imladris, Lord Glorfindel. Still, she isn’t made for sitting on the council and taking decisions,” Elrond said gently, a hint of disapproval in his voice. “The Ladies Tinnim and Ferithil are full of courage and a desire to move forward. In the last few years, we lost many council members or those who I would’ve liked to see on the council, in part because they moved elsewhere, in part because they departed to Valinor. Some live in the villages surrounding Imladris, where they serve as village elders. And I am sorry to say that we also lost some during Orc attacks. Many of the younger ones are afraid of the responsibility such a position entails. Why do you think you have been returned?”

“I was given to understand that Lord Rhidawar wishes to journey to Valinor,” Glorfindel said stiffly.

“Two winters ago, his last remaining son was killed by Orcs. His wife and daughters already left for Valinor after the fall of Eregion.”

Glorfindel gave a snort. “So you plan to restock your council with me and then, in a few years’ time, with those children?”

“None of them is still a child, Lord Glorfindel, even if they have not your age and experience. Lord Erestor especially is a lot older than the count of his years. In a few years, he will be an outstanding councillor, exactly what Imladris and I need. Lady Tinnim as well as Lord Lindir are extremely well suited for their respective posts, and although Lady Ferithil may appear a little bit young and temperamental at times, she is a talented and prudent architect able to combine beauty with purpose. Before Airondis – became the way she is know, she was her teacher.”

“Your council will still only consist of nine members, Lord Elrond.”

Elrond laughed. “Even King Turgon had only tweve councillors. Lord Glorfindel, I assure you that I shall be utterly content with eight of them, particularly if they all know what they are doing.”

“The administration of Gondolin counted far more members than the Imladrin.”

The lord of the valley grew serious. “Many duties are taken care of by those who live in our outside settlements, but I understand and share your concerns. Yet I constantly face the difficulty of having to find Elves who are willing to fill such positions. Lord Glorfindel, this isn’t Gondolin. Most of those who live here are refugees, most often simple people. The books tell us about the rulers and nobles who survived, yet the majority of those who survive are generally neither nobles nor administrators. Lord Erestor’s parents as well were a soldier and a craftsman’s daughter. On their journeys, they accumulated a lot of knowledge, which first bore fruit in Eregion and later in Imladris. Even so, neither of them would have become what they did become in the end, had the Fall of Gondolin not taken place. Lady Certhinen is currently the only one who had already finished her studies when she had to flee. Lord Rhidawar was a captain, not a general like you. We all of us had to work hard to get Imladris to where it is now, and those who you call ‘children’ have done more than their fair share of work. When Felaforn was still alive, he shared the burden of being a general with Lord Rhidawar, and Airondis was Lord Ivorcharan’s predecessor. Many of the settlements around Imladris were built by her. Lord Erestor, for his share, was always to be found where his parents were, was their scribe, assisstant, councillor and right hand, when no one else could be found to do the work. Appointing him as Lord Rhidawar’s right hand only meant making official a position he had held for decades before that. Much the same holds true for the other three. I can hardly recall a day when I did not see Lord Lindir helping Lady Certhdinen, Lady Ferithil was at Airondis’s side whenever possible, and Lady Tinnim – well, she was with her and Lord Erestor almost constantly anyway.”

“Lady Tinnim?” Glorfindel sounded surprised. “Aren’t she and Lord Lindir -”

Elrond raised an eyebrow and looked amused. “You appear to know more than I do. Lady Tinnim’s abiding love for Lord Erestor and his mother is of a different nature. She lost her mother long before the fall of Eregion in an accident. When she arrived in Imladris alongside Airondis and Lord Erestor, or rather, in what is Imladris today, we weren’t even certain of her father’s fate. He was one of the soldiers who, together with Lord Rhidawar and Felaforn, stayed behind to protect the refugees. Airondis and Felaforn adopted both Lady Tinnim and her brother Aegalad when no one could give news about Dir Naurang’s fate. He arrived in Imladris over a year after the fall. He had thought both his children dead and was travelling to Valinor when he heard that Felaforn now had three children. Airondis and Di Anerrine used to care for his children back in Ost-in-Edhil, and Aegalad especially was very fond of Airondis. Dir Naurang therefore thought she might have taken care of them when he didn’t return as well. So he turned around and found his children here.”

There was a long silence. Erestor almost held his breath. He remembered the day well, Naurang suddenly standing in front of their barrack. He remember how Tinnim had cried for hours, clinging to him and Aegalad. How she had snuck into Erestor’s bed that same night to share all her tears and fears with him, predominantly her fear of losing Felaforn and Airondis, despite her immense joy at her father’s return.

Airondis had discovered them back then, had sat down on Erestor’s bed with them and promised Tinnim that she would always be her mother, as long as she wanted her to be.

The promise had barely survived the first hundred years in Imladris. Then Felaforn had been killed and Airondis …

Glorfindel’s voice abruptly reminded him of where he was. “What happened to Anerrine?”

“She lives in Mithlond,” Elrond replied quietly. “At first she was in Eregion with her sister, but she left before it was destroyed. I don’t know when exactly. She is very skilled with her hands, just like her sister, and now works as Cirdan’s assisstant, as far as I know.”

“Why doesn’t she offer her nephew help, given the state her sister is in?”

Elrond shook his head. “She bonded to a young man soon after she moved to Mithlond and gave birth to her last child not yet fifty years ago. She has offered Erestor to take her sister in or move to Imladris several times, but he -”

“He doesn’t want to give his mother away.”

“The journey is long and dangerous, Lord Glorfindel.”

Another long silence. Erestor could hear his aunt’s voice in his head, as usual when he was reading one of her letters.

_Dearest Hengol,_

_I have no wish to force your decision; if you want my sister with you, I should never take your mother away. I want you to know, though, that she will always be welcome here, as will you, should you decide to leave Imladris. I know that you shall soon be Lord Elrond’s chief councillor; dearest Hengol, I am so happy for you, and so proud, and yet so afraid that this burden is yet too heavy for you. Am I being stupid? To me, you are still the child I left back in Eregion, although I know of course that you have long since grown into a man – have had to grow into a man, now that your parents are not there to care for you any longer. I cannot replace your mother, Hengol, but I am here for you whenever you need me._

_Love_

_Anerrine_

Anerrine would take him in without a moment’s hesitation, would offer him a home. He would be able to lay the responsibility for Airondis on her shoulers. And yet, this valley was his parents’ creation. Other than in Ost-in-Edhil, here they had been the driving forces behind the slow process of building a haven and a home for everyone. He couldn’t simply leave, as little as Airondis would ever have left it.

He turned his thoughts and attention back to the two men in the other room when he heard Elrond start to speak: “Don’t underestimate our children, Lord Glorfindel. Except the youngest ones like Gillos, and a few very lucky ones, all of them are refuges, all of them have seen and experienced death, desperation and separation from those they loved most. They may appear like children to you, especially when they are busy celebrating loudly or quarreling, but many of them had to grow up long before their time. Those who stayed here are those who love Middle-Earth too much to leave it yet, and more than one of them has paid for that by becoming an orphan. They don’t feel those losses any less than you only because they were born a few thousand years later. What I tried to create here, what I wanted to provide them with, is a home for the homeless, a refuge for the refugees and a place they can cling to when so much has been taken from them. Do not laugh at them for putting their trust and faith into what may seem like a pointless resistance against the inevitable. We don’t know what the years to come may yet bring; I deem it more important to offer these Elves a place to call home than to urge them to travel to Valinor. Especially when they themselves don’t feel the urge to travel yet.”

Erestor heard the rustling of fabric and dared to sneak a look. The Gondoledhel had risen and was just offering Elrond a bow before he disappeared into the dark hallways.

Elrond himself stayed seated for a while, bemused; at last he sighed, looked toward the door and smiled. “Please do forgive me for calling your parents simple, Lord Erestor,” he said calmly, and Erestor jumped back in surprise. “Don’t worry; I don’t believe Lord Glorfindel noticed you.”

He was still smiling, so Erestor stepped into his room, sighing. “Why should I mind? My parents were simple people, compared to you or Lord Glorfindel.”

“Which is no reason to look down upon them.” Elrond offered him a seat and Erestor accepted gratefully, accepted the glass of wine as well when Elrond handed it to him.

“I don’t ask about her often enough, although I think of her often. How is Airondis?”

Erestor turned the glass in his hands. “She is still utterly fascinated by the Bruinen,” he confessed quietly. “Dinethar has her hands full with Gillos. Yesterday Airondis ran away. Coincidentally I was out with Lord Glorfindel, at the upper waterfall, and found her on the path there.”

Elrond was silent.

“The same spot?”

Erestor gave a nod. Elrond tilted his head back. “Erestor, I don’t mean to doubt you, but I wonder if one of my healers -”

“She knows Dinethar, Mylord,” Erestor interrupted quickly. “And Dinethar knows her. I don’t doubt that your healers would take good care of her, but I’m afraid that Airondis would be scared and run away.”

Elrond gave a hesitant nod. Erestor felt relief. “Besides, I won’t have to be there for Lord Glorfindel any longer soon,” he said quickly. “So I’ll soon have more time for her again. Tinnim does help me a lot, and Ferithil does, at times, and occasionally even Estelaer and Certhdinen or Ivorcharan or Thinferil, when she’s here.”

Elrond smiled again at his eagerness. “I know, Erestor. Nobody could take better care of Airondis,” he said calmingly. “I simply don’t want you to work too much. You’ll soon be my chief councillor, which is going to increase the amount of work you’ll have to do. I don’t want to take her son from Airondis, but Imladris and I need you as well, urgently. And I don’t want you to have a bad conscience while you are working.”

Erestor had blushed. Elrond hardly ever fell back into the informal address of his youth, the informal address Erestor had been so proud of when the lord had turned to Erestor, one step behind mother or father as they discussed some topic with the lord of the valley.

“I can do it, Lord Elrond,” he said as convincingly as he could. “Maethbron is almost ready to take over all my duties with Lord Rhidawar, and Estelaer is a quick study. As long as Lord Glorfindel is properly prepared, there shouldn’t be any difficulties.”

“You are going to miss him, aren’t you?”

Erestor shrugged. “I cannot replace Ruillim. I understand Lord Rhidawar’s desire to leave for Valinor.”

Elrond hesitated. “Have you ever considered sending Airondis to Valinor as well?”

He stared at the lord, who continued carefully: “You know that they might be able to help her there, and she would probably get to see Felaforn earlier. Besides, Lord Rhidawar is well acquainted with her and a very good warrior. She could have no better protection on the journey.”

Erestor could only manage a headshake. Elrond immediately retreated. “I would never make such a decision without consulting you, Erestor. I only want you to know that whatever you need, whenever you need it – I shall be ready and willing to give it to you.”

☼

“Lord Erestor? I thought -”

Erestor carefully closed the door and turned to Dinethar with a pained smile. “I was too tired to continue working, Dinethar. It’s alright. You can go home if you like.”

“I -”

“Is Gillos asleep?”

She nodded and pointed to his bedroom. “Forgive me, I put him in bed in there … Airondis was so restless, I didn’t want her to wake him …”

Erestor resisted the urge to rub his forehead. “It’s fine, Dinethar. You can simply lie down with him.”

“But then you won’t have a bed -”

“I’ll stay in Airondis’s room,” he interrupted her, pushing by her at the same time. “It’s fine, Dinethar. Thank you for coming here today.”

“Of course, Lord Erestor,” he heard her say before he closed the door to Airondis’s room and looked at the sleeping woman.

Send Airondis away. How could Elrond even think about it?

Quietly he stepped up to his mother’s bed, sat down beside her and pulled his knees up, as he had done so many nights before when he hadn’t been able to sleep. Her presence alone calmed him; and as long as she was asleep, it didn’t matter that she didn’t recognise him. ‘She always wanted to join Felaorn,’ a voice whispered in his head and he closed his eyes. ‘All the time, and you know it.’

He shut the voice up, but instead the memories came. Aegalad’s wide, terrified eyes. His mouth, moving so fast. Erestor couldn’t hear one word, yet he instinctively knew that something had happened. Something terrible.

Airondis’ face, white between all those pillows. Her closed eyes. The bandage around her head.

Her dark eyes that looked at him without seeing him. Without recognising him.

Erestor shuddered hard, opened his eyes and lay down beside his mother. He took her hand and cried quietly as she slept peacefully.


	9. Chapter 9

“- Maethbron said that he’s still waiting for the new lists from Lady Tinnim, before he – Lord Erestor?”

He jumped and gave his scribe an absent-minded smile. “Forgive me, Estelaer. Am I wrong or is it really snowing outside?”

“Oh!” She hurried to the windows and pressed her nose against the glass. Her face brightened. “You’re right, it’s snowing! Isn’t it beautiful?”

Erestor doubted that she even heard his reply, but it hardly mattered. His enthusiasm was decidedly lacking.

“It’s so great, we’ll have snow at Jul! It’ll be beautiful when you’ll be appointed chief councillor, Lord Erestor.”

Estelaer’s joy was honest and innocent and caused him to smile more happily than he felt. He pushed the list across the table toward her.

“Estelaer, please take this to Maethbron. Everything you still need to get done before Lord Rhidawar leaves for Valinor is written down on looked at him in surprise.

“And what are you going to do?”

He rose and stepped out from behind his desk. “I’ll go to Lady Tinnim myself to ask her about the new lists. It’s almost time for lunch anyway. Please get the list to Maethbron before you have lunch, will you?”

She curtsied, took the list and disappeared. Erestor looked at the window for another moment before he also stepped into the hallway. Murmurs emanated from Elrond’s writing room. He knew that Aeglirar and Glorfindel were in there right now, although the only voices were those of Elrond and Aeglirar. Erestor’s presence was not required. He had already gone through everything that needed to be talked about with Elrond the day before, and he’d later hear from Elrond what they had decided upon. If there were news. It wasn’t likely. Tiny details might be changed, but probably nothing that would require more than a note.

He stopped at another window and looked out into the garden. A soft white dusting was slowly covering brushes and trees, the empty flowerbeds and the grass. His heart grew heavy. Rhidawar wasn’t attending any meetings any longer. He was currently visiting the border, taking his farewell from the guards stationed there before he made his way to Valinor. In two weeks he would be celebrating his last Jul in Imladris, and already the next day, he would be on his way.

And then Erestor would have to contend with Glorfindel as the general of Imladris.

‘At least he deigns to take notice of you,’ Ferithil had said a few days ago, as they were sorting documents after the last council meeting. ‘The rest of us are simply ignored most of the time.’

Erestor sighed and leaned his head against the glass. “Only because I forced him to look at maps and books with me for a whole month,” he whispered to no one in particular and startled when someone cleared their throat behind him. “Tinnim!”

“Would you prefer to continue talking to yourself there at the window, or are you willing to talk to me?” Her eyes smiled as she took his hand and pulled him along to her writing room. “I assume you were coming to see me?”

He came willingly, laughing. “I wanted to ask about the new ists, so Lord Glorfindel and Maethbron can start setting up the guard schedule for the spring.”

“Lithuivren is still working on it. Maethbron’ll get it tomorrow, on Jul at the latest.” Tinnim opened her door and placed him on the chair beside her writing desk. “What’s the matter, Torlenn? The last time I saw you looking this worried, you had just had your little talk with Lord Elrond. However, that can’t be the cause, since I heard only yesterday that Gwenglinn has delivered Lord Glorfindel’s new robes to him. The robes for the Imladrin general. So there shouldn’t be any doubts left as to who is going to hold which position in the future.”

Erestor sighed and tried to smile. “Hiding something from you would require magic, wouldn’t it? And no, it isn’t Lord Glorfindel this time for a change.”

Her lips curved into a smile as well and she took his hand again to give it a squeeze. “We’re brother and sister, Erestor, even if we were born to different parents. So, what ails you?”

“Airondis,” he whispered, looking down. “Some time ago, Lord Elrond suggested to send her to Valinor with Rhidawar.”

“How could he?”

The honest outrage in her voice was balm on Erestor’s wounded soul.

“I’m sure he only meant well, Tin. She’d be closer to – to my father. And the Valar might be able to help her. It’s just – if I want to send her away, I’ll have to do it now. Lord Rhidawar wants to leave on the day after Jul, I’d only have two weeks left to arrange everything.”

“But you need Airondis, Torlenn. So do I. So do Ferithil and Dinethar, even Aegalad. No, you simply cannot send her away.” Tinnim’s eyes were moist. Erestor looked down.

“Aegalad? I haven’t seen him in over a year. Does he ever come out of the smithy?”

“You know how scared he was after finding her in the river, Erestor,” Tinnim reminded him, attempting to protect her actual brother. “Airondis was his mother, the only one he every knew. He was so small when Nana died. And then he lost Felaforn and Airondis so soon after each other, after our own father almost left for Valinor without us …”

He sighed and squeezed her hand. “You do your duties well, Tin. It’s alright. I’m not angry at Laestor.”

“He often goes to stand in front of your house, do you know that?” she said softly and Erestor looked up in surprise. “He doesn’t dare knock. I know it hurts you deeply that she doesn’t recognise you, Erestor, but I think it would kill Aegalad, should she not recognise him.”

His mouth was dry. “It tears out my heart, Tin.”

Without a word she pulled him against her and he sank into her arms, squeezed his eyes shut and prayed that his heart wouldn’t stop beating.

“I’m always at your side, Torlenn,” she whispered into his ear. “Always, every single day. I’ll help you, regardless of what it is about. Please don’t send Airondis away. It wouldn’t be good for you, and it’d break her heart as well. Please keep her here, with us. I know it’s difficult for you, but I’ll do whatever I can to make it easier for you.”

Erestor wrapped his arms tightly around her and wished that he could stop time.

☼

“Do you think this dress is better?”

“Ithil, hurry up and make your decision! Otherwise we’ll be late for our own appointment as council members!” Lindir reminded her and rolled his eyes in Erestor’s direction.

He laughed softly and made an attempt at calming both of them: “Lindir, it’s just after lunch and the feast starts in the evening. Ithil still has time to try on every single dress in her wardrobe and we’ll still be on time. It’s only going to be a problem if she insists on trying them a second or third time.”

“Tin has known for weeks what she’s going to wear tonight,” Lindir grumbled, and now Erestor rolled his eyes.

“Tin may have known for several weeks, but she took her sweet time making her decision as well. If we’re going to be comparing that, Ithil will actually be faster in deciding than Tin, since she’ll have to do it in only a few hours.”

Lindir gave a snort and Ferithil answered with a deep sigh, as she sat down on the bed beside the two men. “I simply wanted to wait until Nana and Ninui arrive,” she said, downcast. “Aunt Milivren is kind, but she isn’t Nana.”

“I think that Belegron is more of a problem than Milivren.” Lindir grinned as Ferithil glared at him. “What? He’d be standing in the doorway the whole time and comment on every single of your dresses.”

“He’s nosy and annoying!”

“He’s going to be your very own scribe from tomorrow onward,” Erestor reminded her, barely hiding his laughter as she rolled her eyes.

“I really don’t know why Lord Elrond had to appoint my cousin to be my personal scribe,” Ferithil grumbled and both men started laughing.

“That’s easily explained, Ithil – as long as it’s not about dresses, you’ve definitely got the upper hand!” Lindir laughed and her expression turned astonished.

“That is so not true! Belegron contradicts me the whole time!”

“As you contradict him! Come on, Ithil, the two of you are equally bad. And now choose a dress.” Lindir gave her a little push and she clung to Erestor to avoid falling off the bed.

“Remind me why I wanted you two to be there when I pick my dress?” she sighed, earning laughter from both her friends.

“Tradition, that’s why. We’ve always dressed together for formal occasions. Lindir is right, Ithil, you’ll have to pick a dress at some point. Preferably soon, so we’ll still have time to do your hair.”

“Alright, alright, Restor!” Ferithil rose and stood in front of the four dresses she had to decide between. Lindir fell back on the bed and pulled his feet up.

“Oh, by the way, Nana wants to do your hair today, Restor.”

He startled. “Why does Laervilui want to do my hair?”

“Certhdinen can’t do it,” Lindir said and turned around until he was facing Erestor, who felt a twinge of relief. Ever since he had gotten to know about Lindir’s feelings for Tinnim, his friend had tried not to spend too much time alone with him. Even when they were all sitting together like now, he was distant. It was hardly noticeable, yet it was there. Erestor suspected that Lindir being so nomal right now was probably due to them being alone with Ferithil, and Tinnim missing.

“And Nana thinks that us young grasshoppers don’t deserve to braid Lord Elrond’s chief councillor’s hair on the occasion of his offical appointment as such. That’s why she wants to do it herself.” Lindir grinned. “I do love it when she pretends that we’re small children, although we’re way above her. In terms of status, I mean.”

“She is Lord Elrond’s right hand in the Houses of Healing, Lindir,” Erestor reminded him and his friend shrugged.

“That’s be as it may, but I’m still a lord.”

Ferithil, apparently having picked a dress, turned around and slapped Lindir lightly. “Don’t be insolent!” she said seriously. “Whether you’ve got a title or not, she’s still you mother!”

“Ouch, Ithil! I’m not saying she isn’t, but you have to admit it’s kind of funny!”

“Really!” Ferithil rolled her eyes. “Out, both of you, I want to change.”

“Oh, suddenly we’re supposed to get out?”

“Get out!”

Laughing, both men jumped up and Ferithil loudly closes the door behind them. Rithelion and Talchim, who had been reading in the parlour, turned around. Rithelion raised an eyebrow. “Has my son forgotten his manners yet again, Erestor? If so, feel free to teach him some.”

Talchim sniggered and quickly hid behind his book when his older brother glared in his direction. Erestor smiled and sat down at the table with them. “Ferithil is perfectly able to defend herself against any bad manners he might show,” he said and Rithelion’s mouth twitched.

“I don’t doubt it. Lady Ferithil is very assertive.”

“I’m a lord, too, Adar. I’m assertive as well,” Lindir said and his father pretended to look very serious.

“My boy, as long as you’re still living in his house, you can be a lord all you want – in here, you’re our little boy, who’ll be taught proper manners if he’s lacking in proper respect for your mother or any other woman.”

Talchim was slapped for laughing loudly at that. Erestor was spared a similar treatment, although he laughed as well as he rose. “Since we’re talking about it, I’ll be back later so Laervilui can do my hair,” he said. “I have to go to Dinethar’s and help her with dressing Airondis and Gillos for the feast.”

“Airondis is coming?” Lindir plopped down onto the empty chair and sent Erestor a questioning look. “Aren’t you worried she’ll get scared? The hall will be quite packed, and the last time you brought her along, she started crying.”

He became serious. “I know. But I -”

“Even Einior and Nividhren are coming all the way from Eryn Tithen to watch Ferithil being appointed to the Council, Lindir. Is Erestor to be the only one whose parents will not attend? Erestor, where will she be sitting?”

Erestor looked at Rithelion in gratitude. “Dinethar’ll be sitting at the back of the hall with her and Gillos so she can go outside if it’s too much for Airondis. Hervesmaed has already promised to also keep an eye on her and help Dinethar, should it be necessary.”

“I’m sure there’s space for Airondis at our table. Laervilui won’t mind at all, and Naurang would be the last person to object.” Rithelion was watching Erestor carefully. He felt the gaze and saw the slight nod. “But whichever way you deem best, Erestor. She’s your mother and it’s your decision.”

Lindir made to speak, but Erestor cut him off and smiled. “Yes. I’ll see you later.”

“See you later, Erestor!” Talchim called behind him and Erestor hurried outside.

☼

“Sit still, Airondis.”

Erestor let go of the strand of hair to press his mother back down on he chair. She sighed and moved her feet impatiently. “I don’t want to sit any longer,” she complained and he swallowed.

“Airondis, please sit still for just another moment, yes? I promise, I’m almost done.”

“What are you doing?”

She tried to turn her head and look at his hands. The strand of hair escaped his grip and Erestor cursed inwardly at the part he had just finished coming loose again. “Airondis, I told you to sit still!”

“No! Ow! You’re hurting me! Ouch!”

Erestor ground his teeth, let go of her hair and took a step back. Airondis jumped up and glared at him. “I don’t want that!” she complained and he gave in. There was no point. He had been trying for almost an hour to braid her hair and every time she had disturbed him just before he managed to finish.

“Fine, then you’ll have to go with your hair all down and ugly!” he hissed. “Then everyone will laugh at you, you just wait and see!”

Her eyes turned wide and filled with tears. Immediately his conscience started nagging him. Erestor sighed and rubbed his forehead. “Airondis, please sit down and let me at least braid your hair into a normal plait. Please? Just one plait. A few moments only.”

“I don’t want to be ugly!” she sobbed and he hurred to embrace her.

“You’re not ugly, Airondis. You’re never ugly. You’re the most beautiful of all, even with your hair down.”

“No, braid it!”

Erestor quietly begged the Valar for patience and pushed Airondis down on the chair once more. “Alright. But this is the last time, Airondis! If you move again and ruin everything, I won’t braid your hair again, is that clear?”

She nodded and kept so quiet that he almost thought she had stopped breathing. Even so, he hardly cared. He only wanted to finish her hair.

Once the last ribbon was tied into it, he stepped back and permitted himself a deep sigh. “There you go, Airondis. Now you’re even more beautiful than before.”

She immediately whirled round to him. The dark eyes beamed at him.

“Thank you, Erestor!”

He bit down on his tongue and glanced outside. “Airondis, I’ll have to return to Lindir and Ferithil. Laervilui’ll braid my hair. Do you promise to leave your hair alone so it doesn’t come undone?”

“I want to braid your hair!”

He took a moment to understand the almost angry words. Then he gave a surprised laugh. “You? Airondis -”

“I shall braid your hair, Erestor,” she repeated. The voice was different. The eyes were still beaming, yet their expression was different.

Silently Erestor sank down on the chair and let his mother braid his hair.

Outside, it slowly turned dark. Once the sun rose tomorrow morning, he was officially going to be Lord Erestor o Imladris, chief councillor and right hand to Lord Elrond.

The thought made him shudder. There was no turning back now.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You would think given the current situation I have less to keep me busy and more time for translating.
> 
> You would think.
> 
> Anyhow, I hope everyone enjoys the new chapter!

“Erestor, your hair looks amazing.”

“You look amazing yourself, Tin,” he replied and bent over her hand, half a joke, half in earnest. “Mylady Tinnim.”

The laughter quickly caught everyone and eased their nerves a bit. Lindir plucked at his robe for what had to be the fiftieth time. Erestor had stopped counting at twenty. “I’m not so sure I still want to become councillor. What about you?”

Ferithil tipped her head back, but her hands were gripping the seams of her sleeves tightly as well. “It’s hardly news, now, is it? We’ve been attending every council meeting in years.”

“And were so far permitted to speak, yet did not have any official position,” Tinnim reminded them softly and smiled encouragingly at Lindir. Erestor noticed how his friend blushed slightly and turned his head away. “I for my share am looking forward to it. From tonight, nobody can accuse us of being merely scribes.”

“Is that a reference to a certain king of a certain wood?” Erestor couldn’t quite refrain from teasing her and laughed together with Ferithil when Tinnim stuck her nose up in the air.

“And if so, then what?”

“Greetings.”

They all startled. Glorfindel gave a stiff bow, rose and scrutinised all the young Elves in turn. “My congratulations.”

Erestor cleared his throat. “Thank you, Lord Glorfindel. May I offer congratulations on your appointment as well?”

The other lord only replied with a nod. Ferithil let go of her sleeve and started kneading her hands. “Restor, let’s run through the plan again, shall we? What was the seating order again?”

It was a distraction and they all knew it. Yet although Glorfindel did his best to melt with the wall behind his back, none of them forgot for even a moment that he was there. Erestor glanced at him from the corner of his eye, while he recited tonight’s events once more. He had gone over the plans so often that he would’ve been able to do so in his sleep.

Glorfindel looked splendid. Not even his stony expression could hide how majestic and imposing he was. Tall and with long, blond hair braided into a complicated pattern. Erestor wondered which of the housemaids had been brave enough to touch Lord Glorfindel’s hair. Most of them didn’t even dare enter his rooms to pick his laundry up for wasing.

Glorfindel appeared to be lost in thoughts. Erestor looked a little more closely. Gwenglinn had surpassed herself. The long red robe complimented the commander-in-chief and did indeed recall a legendary general of old. Other than Rhidawar, who had always looked even thinner and bonier than in his normal attire.

And who, Erestor recalled with a smile, had had a tendency to “forget” to put them on. Rhidawar had never liked the nobility and always refused to be counted amongst them. ‘I’m a simple man, Erestor. I do what I am good at, and I do it as well as I can. If that’s enough for the Lord of Imladris, I’m satisfied. I don’t have to be called Lord for that,’ he heard in his head and smiled a little more.

Glorfindel looked at him. Straight into his eyes.

Erestor startled, stuttered and returned his gaze to Ferithil in a hurry, who was looking at him and Glorfindel uncertainly. Tinnim and Lindir looked like cats about to pounce.

He knew that Glorfindel had stepped up right behind him. He could feel it. The hairs on his nape stood.

“Who braided your hair, Lord Erestor?” the deep voice asked and he stared at Tinnim and told a lie.

“Di Laervilui.”

“Ah.”

With that, the foreign lord stepped away. Erestor’s heart was beating in his throat, and his hands were shaking. But he had no time to recover. Outside their little antechamber a fanfare sounded and Lord Elrond’s voice carried into their chamber.

“All of us assembled here call upon the Council to enter. We call upon the old and new councillors to step into our midst. Come and guide us, you Ladies and Lords, guide those who call upon you. Enter!”

☼

“She simply fell asleep.”

Dinethar smiled at him and he knelt down beside the windowsill. Airondis lay upon it in an impossible position and slept like the dead.

“She was looking at you the whole time, Lord Erestor. Only at you, all the time.”

He cleared his throat and managed a smile himself. “I’m glad she wasn’t scared. Thank you for attending with her, Dinethar.”

“Of course I came, Lord Erestor. You couldn’t be the only new councillor whose parents weren’t present,” she replied at once. He stroked the long, dark hair. When it had happened, he knew not, but of course Airondis had opened her braids at some point. Now the dark strands lay open before him, covering her body almost like a veil.

“You couldn’t even dance with Fuingael,” he said and Dinethar smiled brightly.

“No matter, Lord Erestor. Fuingael and I’ll have many feasts to dance at together. I’m only glad he came home in time to take care of Gillos.”

“What would I do without you, Dinethar.”

She laughed and rose carefully so as not to rouse Airondis. “I just do what I can to help, Lord Erestor. Do you want to wake her?”

He shook his head and was about to pick her up, but Dinethar stopped him. “Leave her be, Lord Erestor! This is your celebration. Go back to your friends and the other guests. I’ll get Fuingael so he can carry her home.”

“Don’t bother, Di Dinethar,” another voice spoke up from behind and Ridawar stepped up to them. “I was leaving anyway. It’ll be an early start tomorrow morning. Erestor, with your permission?”

He picked Airondis up as if she hardly weighed anything and looked at her with an expression of sadness, then at Erestor. “My boy, I’m gonna miss you,” he grumbled and his eyes glistened with moisture. Erestor, embarrassed, averted his gaze. “You and her. Without the both of you … Imladris wouldn’t be what it is today, if it hadn’t been for the both of you and your father. I’ll make sure to tell him that he can be proud of you when I’m in Valinor and he returns from the Halls of Waiting. And I’ll be waiting for you to follow me.”

Erestor swallowed hard and felt his eyes burn. “Thank you, Uncle Rhidawar,” he mumbled. It had been so long since he last called his lord Uncle. Rhidawar’s smile told him that it had been the right thing to do, though.

“I’ll see you tomorrow morning, Lord Erestor. You and Lord Elrond will see me off,” he ordered, then looked at Dinethar. “Get going, girl! This lady here wants her bed, and you should be sharing your husband’s bed as well!”

Quickly Dinethar joined him and Erestor chuckled as he watched them leave. His chest hurt.

Arms embraced him and Tinnim put her chin on his shoulder. “We’ll stay with you for some time to come yet, Torlenn,” she whispered. “Come back to the feast, please? Celebrate with the rest of us and leave off your sad thoughts for a while.”

He freed himself and smiled at her. “They weren’t that sad, Tin. And I was going to return.”

Her eyes shone when she took his hand. “That’s what I wanted to hear, Torlenn. Just so you know, the next two dances are mine.”

“Are you monopolising me?” he teased and followed her back into the Hall of Fire, from where laughter, music and many voices could be heard. Tinnim tilted her head to the side.

“Nonsense. I’m only protecting you. Otherwise Lord Glorfindel might get it into his head that he wants a dance with you.”

He burst out laughing. “Has he even risen from his seat in the meantime?”

She joined him. “Once, to get a glass of water. But he did move, after all! Now come!”

“Not so fast, Tin, you’ll step on your seams!”

“What matter?” She pulled at his hand, laughing, hefting her skirts with the other hand as she hurried into the hall. “Torlenn, why did you lie to him earlier, by the way?”

“Who?”

She glanced at him. “Lord Glorfindel. You told him that Laervilui braided your hair. But Lindir said it was Airondis.”

His hand closed hard around hers. “I don’t know, Tin. I don’t know.”

☼

“Isn’t it great? Finally the sun is shining again!”

Tinnim pushed her hood back, tilted her head back and took a deep breath. “I think spring is finally starting for real! I’m so sick and tired of all the mud, Torlenn!”

“That’s only because you had to find people to clean it off the streets,” he reminded her, laughing, and she snorted.

“I really have to talk to Ithil again about who’s responsible for designating workmen to keep the streets clean.”

“Ithil, and you know that as well as she does, Tin. You shouldn’t always let her give you more work,” he reprimanded and his friend laughed.

“But she’s so busy building the new barracks for our soldiers! I almost have a bad conscience when I bother her with unimportant little details like keeping the streets clean.”

“If she wants to build those barracks so urgently, she’ll also have to make sure that the streets are in good enough of a condition so the materials can be transported there. You’re being too lenient with her, Tin.”

She laughed once more. ”Listen who’s talking, Torlenn! Who did I catch bent over the plans in Lord Glorfindel’s writing room two days ago?”

“That was only because Maethbron wasn’t quite sure about one thing,” he defended himself, and then laughed as well. He had been beset by dark thoughts again during the last few weeks, and more than once he had wondered to Tinnim whether he shouldn’t have sent Airondis into the West after all. But now he could smell the spring in the air, the sun shone into his room when he sat down at his desk in the mornings, and Glorfindel had quietly taken up his duties, showing no outward sign of reluctance.

Erestor was confident that this new year was going to be a good one.

“Lithuivren! Lithuivren, be so kind and run ahead to tell Lady Ferithil that we’ll be with her in a moment.”

Tinnim had turned around to her scribe, following behind them. That was maybe the only downside to their official appointment into the Council. Their scribes, with whom they had been at almost eye-level before, had become more noticeably distanced. Excepting Belegron, who was still walking with rather than behind his lady without anyone needing to ask him to.

Ferithil simply accepted it. ‘He’s like the weather, you can’t change him. So you need to accept him as he is,’ she had said to Erestor when he told her about an overheard conversation between Estelaer and Belegron, his scribe reprimanding Belegron for his lack of respect. ’And besides, he’s my cousin. His room at home is right beside mine. What am I supposed to do about it? And I don’t think Lord Elrond cares.’

Of course Elrond didn’t care. As little as he had ever cared about the fact that the young council members spent their lunchtime with their scribes, or even went drinking with them in the evenings. Yet Erestor could tell that all these things were about to change. With eight permanent council members and one chief councillor, Imladris had stopped being a small refugee settlement. Despite most of the settlements being dotted around the landscape surrounding Imladris, it was rather like a small town now; a small town with a lot of small districts. He could also tell by the tone of the diplomatic correspondence, which he was now taking care of together with Aeglirar. Before, the answers had sometimes held a hint taunts and mocking when they asked for help, and it had disappeared.

It made him a little proud. They had managed to bring this little settlement so far. He knew they’d be able to bring it even further if given enough time, and provided the Orcs were kept at bay.

And there was the fly in the ointment. He sighed softly. The sudden respect shown to Elrond and Imladris by other leaders was to no small extent due to word having gone round as to the identity of the new commander-in-chief. Almost every letter contained one or the other subtle question regarding Glorfindel. Erestor and Aeglirar had agreed to ignore those, unless they were relevant to the contents of their answer.

“Oh.”

He halted and realised that Tinnim dipped at curtsy at his side. “Greetings, Lord Glorfindel.”

He blushed furiously upon realising that he hadn’t even noticed the other lord arriving. He had suddenly appeared from the street to their left, and was just rising from his own bow.

“Lady Tinnim. Lord Erestor.”

“Good morning, Lord Glorfindel,” Erestor said with as much dignity as he could muster, dipping his head slightly. “I hope you received my message yesterday? When are you planning to start on your first tour of inspection of the borders?”

Cool blue-grey eyes met his gaze. “Not at all.”

Before Erestor had found a reply, the lord had brushed past them and disappeared. Tinnim looked after him with a surprised look on her face. “What was that about? Torlenn?”

Erestor shook his head like a wet dog and forced himself to take a deep breath. “I asked Lord Glorfindel to inspect the borders. To estimate the damage done by the winter, to meet our guards out there and to get a proper look at them himself.”

Tinnim’s mouth twitched. “Torlenn, I’m afraid you might have to discuss this with him further.”

Erestor ground his teeth. “I’m afraid I will.”

☼

“Do forgive me, Lord Glorfindel, but you are acting like a child!”

Angry, Erestor stepped around the table and stood in front of the other lord. His hands clenched at his sides, yet he tried to control himself. “You have to inspect the borders! The winter will have caused damage in several places, which will need to be repaired as soon as possible!”

The eyes were icy. “My behaviour is neither here nor there, Lord Erestor, and I shall not inspect the borders. Captain Rithelion is fully -”

“Captain Rithelion is _not_ Imladris’s new commander-in-chief!” Erestor cut him off and felt as if his hair was starting to rise, like Heleth when she was brushed against the fur. “The guards out there don’t know you, and it’s only polite to introduce yourself to them!”

“The guards will be replaced by the new guards riding to the borders now.” Glorfindel’s eyes narrowed. “I have things to do here, Lord Erestor. My absence would greatly delay them.”

The younger lord gasped. “You – what do you have a scribe for? Maethbron -”

The scribe behind Glorfindel’s back looked up and shook his head frantically. Erestor ground his teeth. “I am familiar enough with your duties to step in for some time. Long enough for you to inspect the borders.”

“You, Lord Erestor, are chief councillor to Lord Elrond. Your duties are waiting for you in the writing room next to his, not in this one. If you wish to become a good chief councillor, start by learning to not take on other people’s work all of the time,” Glorfindel said harshly and Erestor didn’t know what to say. Maethbron shrugged helplessly, and he realised that Glorfindel had observed him helping his former scribe.

“Are you telling me how to administer Imladris?” he finally said through gritted teeth and Glorfindel made an impatient sound.

“I am telling you that the chief councillor’s duty is not to interfere with other councillors’ areas of expertise. His duty is to supervise and make sure they do their work. He is not a replacement who can step in when the need arises.”

Again Erestor knew not what to say.

“That’s how we’ve been doing it ever since we got here!” he finally burst out and Glorfindel crossed his arms.

“If you think you can do it, do not let me keep you from interfering with the other councillors’ duties. But where mine are concerned, stay out of it, Lord Erestor!”

Erestor turned on his heel, rushed out of the door and slammed it closed more loudly than necessary. Bursting with fury he returned to his own writing room and Estelaer startled. “Lord Erestor?”

“Estelaer, Lord Glorfindel prefers me to stay out of his affairs. Therefore, if Maethbron is encountering difficulties in the future, please refrain from notifying me of it,” he said coldly and her eyes grew wide. She did not say anything, though.

Erestor sank down on his chair only to find he couldn’t concentrate on the document in front of him. It was important. It was Ferithil’s estimation of how long it would take them to finish the new barracks.

“If only he’d stayed in the Halls of Waiting!”

Estelaer dropped her quill. Erestor watched it sail to the floor and calmed down abruptly.

“Estelaer, forgive me,” he said quietly, stood and returned the quill to her. “And forget what I just said. Of course you can still tell me when Maethbron needs help. Just tell him that he’s to come to me directly then.”

She cleared her throat nervously. “Did Lord Glorfindel say something?”

He looked at her sharply. “Did you know that he saw me?”

She nodded, bad conscience written all across her face. “He reprimanded Maethbron afterwards, told him to come to him instead of you. Because he’s his lord now.”

Erestor had no idea what expression he showed. But she quickly added, “But Maethbron prefers coming to you! Lord Glorfindel is so severe and wants things to be done so differently than before!”

Beaten, Erestor sank down on his chair again and put his head in his hands. “Estelaer -” he started, then sighed deeply. “Lord Glorfindel is right. He is Maethbron’s lord now, and he has to do what Lord Glorfindel tells him to do. I understand that he may not like it, but … I think it would be for the best if Maethbron tries to get used to him.”

Estelaer looked down at her document. Erestor sighed again and got up. “I’ll be with Lady Ferithil, if anyone needs me. Estelaer?”

“Yes?” she whispered. Erestor tried to find an encouraging smile.

“I know well that Lord Glorfindel is a difficult man. But he is commander-in-chief and he will stay commander-in-chief. For a long time, if nothing happens to him. We will have to get used to that.”

She nodded and carefully returned the smile. Erestor closed the door behind himself and shook his head at himself. Here he was, giving the scribes good advice on how to deal with Glorfindel, when he himself struggled to stand up to the man.

It was one thing to say that one shouldn’t cow to these men of high birth and standing. It was very difficult to remember it though when Glorfindel stood in front of one glowing with authority.

**☼**

“I’m sure Lord Elrond would agree. And if he gave the order, Lord Glorfindel would have to go.”

RIthelion turned around to Erestor and gave him a warm smile. “Child, don’t worry about it. It’s not the first time I inspect the borders in spring.”

“But Lord Glorfindel should be the one doing this! You already spent the whole winter at the borders, excepting Jul!” Erestor pointed out stubbornly and Rithelion put a hand on his shoulder.

“Erestor, let him make the decisions. I know that Rhidawar always rode himself and left everything in Imladris in your hands. But he could do so without worrying. Lord Glorfindel and Maethbron have worked together hardly four months. I understand his desire to be certain that Maethbron can handle himself before he starts on a weeks-long trip.”

“I could -”

“You are Lord Elrond’s chief councillor. You’ve enough to do, and you know it. Lindir told me how much you worked while you were taking care of Lord Glorfindel, fulfilling your normal duties and preparing to become Lord Elrond’s chief councillor,” Rithelion interrupted him calmly. “We all appreciate your work, Erestor, but nobody gains anything if you fall ill due to exhaustion.”

He squinnied one eye and grinned all of a sudden. “Don’t pull such a sour face, Erestor. You’ll forgive my honesty, but you are and will always be my boy’s best friend – and a good friend’s son. I’ll set your head to rights just as much as I’ll do with Lindir when he gets too cheeky.”

Defeated, Erestor sat down at the big table and put his chin in his hands. “You’ve always done that,” he grumbled and Rithelion sat down with him, laughing.

“That’s the downside of rising to such a high position at such a young age. There’s always these few people who already knew you when you were still wearing diapers.”

“I was an adult and a soldier.”

“You were a boy still living with his parents, horribly shocked by everything that passed in Eregion.” Rithelion put a hand on his shoulder again. “Erestor, I’ll be the first to admit that you’ve grown into a man, and a fine one at that, but what you have to learn now is to let go of some control and trust the other councillors to do their duties, and do them well. I know this is hard for you, because you’ve been involved in so many different aspects of our administration thanks to your parents. That is why Lord Elrond chose you as his chief councillor, because you know enough about all important matters to make an informed decision. But Imladris is too big these days for you to take care of everything. Leave Lord Glorfindel to arrange matters the way it suits him best. That’ll give you the best results.”

“And the guards at the borders? They don’t even know what their new commander-in-chief looks like,” Erestor made a last attempt and changing his mind, and Rithelion shrugged.

“I’ll have to agree with Lord Glorfindel on this as well, Erestor. What the commander looks like matters very little for your common soldier. He needs to know that his general knows what he’s doing when he’s giving out orders. Lord Glorfindel will visit the borders when he deems the time right for it. Don’t believe he won’t. But let him decide when the time will be right for it.”

“A soldier wants to be certain that his general is thinking of him before he orders him to go and fight,” Erestor grumbled and Rithelion agreed with a nod.

“And I’m certain Lord Glorfindel is well aware of that, too. Still, you’ll have to let him make the decision of when he wants to get to know his soldiers.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Would you look at that, I got another chapter finished! Enjoy and please feel free to leave comments, especially if you find errors!

“Nana for one wasn’t exactly happy.” Lindir leaned back and glanced at Tinnim unobtrusively, who was reading a book. “She’s been in a foul mood lately anyway. She was very angry that Ada had to return to the borders when he’d planned to stay here all of spring.”

“She’ll have to accept it,” said Tinnim without looking up from her book. “Captain Rithelion won’t be at the borders for that long, after all. It’s only to see where it’s been damaged, after all. Besides, I heard that Dess Thinferil will return to Imladris instead.”

Lindir snorted. “I doubt that Nana wants to share a bed with Dess Thinferil,” he said, a challenge in his voice, and Tinnim gave him a cool look.

“Lindir, your father has always spent the greatest part of the year at the borders, as far as I recall. Even back when Lord Rhidawar was still commander-in-chief. I really don’t know why Laervilui is suddenly taking issue with that. I’ve never heard her complain about it before.”

Lindir pushed his chin forward stubbornly. “It’s different now. Nana is -”

Tinnim looked up when he stopped speaking. Erestor, too, looked at his friend in expectation, but Lindir pressed his mouth shut and appeared annoyed.

“Yes? What is different now?” Tinnim finally asked and Lindir pushed his chair back angrily.

“Nothing. I don’t understand how you can be so cold, Tin. If you were in love with someone, you’d want that person to be near you as well!”

She blinked at his disappearing back while Erestor heaved an inner sigh. “Erestor -”

He shrugged. “I don’t know either, Tin.”

She set her book aside and took a sip of her tea, pondering something. “Lindir has been acting weird lately,” she said. “Aegalad said that a week ago, he was at our house, wanting to speak to me. I wasn’t there and he left. But he hasn’t said anything about it. Not even when I asked what he wanted to talk to me about.”

Erestor kept quiet and she sighed. “I hope he’ll calm down again. Do you have any idea what he could have wanted? Is Laervilui not well?”

“Not that I know.”

They were silent. A quiet knock at the door made them look up. Maethbron stood there, sending nervous glances over his shoulder. As if being afraid of getting caught.

Erestor smiled at his former scribe. “Maethbron, come on in. Did Estelaer tell you that I am in Tin-”

“Lord Erestor, I have to talk to you!” the young man interrupted him and closed the door carefully. “I – well – it’s about today’s council meeting.”

Tinnim and Erestor looked at each other. Tinnim pointed to a chair. “Sit down, Maethbron, please. Would you like a cup of tea?” she asked with her kind voice, and the scribe relaxed somewhat.

“Thank you, Lady Tinnim, that would be much appreciated.”

Erestor waited until Maethbron had sipped before asking: “Now what did you want to talk to me about?”

The scribe lowered his gaze and played with his cup. “Lord Erestor, please don’t think badly of me,” he started hesitantly. “I wouldn’t – if it wasn’t – I wouldn’t ever doubt your decisions. But Lord Glorfindel has – he’s going to suggest something during this afternoon’s meeting that I – I wanted you to know about it before the meeting began.”

Erestor raised an eyebrow and shared a look with Tinnim again. Then he sat up and gestured for Maethbron to continue.

* * *

“**Lord** Glorfindel!”

Erestor had no trouble catching up to the man. He stopped the moment he heard his name, and turned to look at him. Erestor closed his eyes for a moment and tried to control his voice. “A moment of your time, Lord Glorfindel.”

A short gesture. Erestor opened the door to the council chamber, ordered Lithuivren and Hwesmelui out with a look and closed it behind the two of them.

“I have been informed that you are planning to make a suggestion during today’s council meeting on how to raise the number of our guards,” he said, barely managing to control himself, and Glorfindel’s expression shuttered.

“Your scribe -”

“Maethbron did well to ask me before the council meeting commenced!” Erestor cut him off and stopped trying to keep his voice down. “What in Arda gave you the idea of sending our women to protect our borders?”

Why did Glorfindel’s eyes never show even the slightest bit of warmth, he wondered as the lord straightened to his full height.

“My suggestion is only logical, Lord Erestor, and I have told you several times already that I do not approve of my scribe considering you his lord any longer. If he finds he doesn’t like working under someone else, I shall be more than willing to find another scribe to do his work. I have no use for one who comes running to you every time he disagrees with one of my decisions!”

“Your suggestion lacks any foundation and is unconscionable besides!” Erestor hissed. “Women as guards! What next? Will you send our children to fight the Orcs?”

“Your women are just as capable of fighting as your men, if only you gave them the proper training,” was the immediate reply. The door behind Erestor opened and he knew that at least Tinnim had just entered. “Speaking from long experience, I can tell you that the women of Gondolin were just as good with their weapons as their men. Your own aunt even more so than most men, by the way. I’m certain the same will be the case for some of the Imladrin women.”

Erestor gasped and felt his stomach drop to his knees. “Imladris is not Gondolin! Only because Gondolin did it that way, does not mean that Imladris has to follow. And how would you know how well my aunt can fight! Anerrine hasn’t carried a weapon since Eregion was founded, you can take my word for that!”

“Only because it contradicts tradition, does not mean it is bad for Imladris, and I refuse to quarrel with you about times when your parents hadn’t even bonded! What would you know about them! As little as you know about an aunt who died long before you were born. I was referring to Ilinde, not Anerrine.” Glorfindel’s voice had risen in volume as well. Erestor felt a small triumph, despite tasting bile in his mouth. At least he could still rile the cold lord.

“Lord Glorfindel, you -”

“Mylords. Seeing as three of the present company already know what your discussion is about, maybe we should open the debate to the whole council at this point?”

Elrond’s voice was gentle, but firm. Erestor closed his mouth, pressed his lips together and spun around. The Lord of the valley offered him a reassuring smile when he sat down in the chair to his right. Tinnim came to his side silently. Hwesmelui and Lithuivren followed Certhdinen, Aeglirar and Ivorcharan into the room, heads bowed. Lindir, Ferithil, Belegron and Maethbron gave him questioning looks, but remained quiet as they, too, sat down.

Elrond waited until the rustle of parchments had subsided and the scribes were ready to take their notes. Then he smiled at everyone. “We wanted to start with our currently most important project today, the new guard barracks,” he said calmly. “However, since Lord Glorfindel has presented me with a new suggestion, I would like to start with that. Lord Glorfindel, if you would.”

All eyes turned to the lord. He moved no muscle, did not let on whether he felt uncertain at all when he presented his suggestion: “I petition the council to extend border guard duty to the women of Imladris.”

Lindir’s and Ferithil’s eyes went wide. Tinnim nodded to herself. Certhdinen and Aeglirar exchanged a look, and Ivorcharan leaned forward. “Lord Glorfindel, am I understanding this right? You wish to send our women to the borders to protect them from the Orcs?”

“And I petition the council to appoint one council member to every settlement around Imladris as commander-in-chief, who will then make sure that every man and woman fit to carry a weapon will be trained to use them,” Glorfindel continued, his face expressionless. “The council members themselves will of course be properly trained by me personally in advance, should it be deemed necessary.”

Ivorcharan made an unbelieving sound and leaned back to look at Erestor. “Lord Glorfindel, I have to admit that your suggestions are somewhat – radical. I sympathise with Lord Erestor’s reaction.”

“So do I,” Lindir spoke up, bright eyes like steel. “And I am against it. Women have no place amongst the guards.”

“Do correct me should I be wrong, Lord Lindir, but to my best knowledge, the best border guard is, as a matter of fact, a woman.” Glorfindel’s gaze was boring into Lindir’s, but the younger lord was unwilling to give in.

“Dess Thinferil is one of maybe ten women amongst the guards.”

“There are eight women amongst the guards, and five of them are cooks and healers at the bigger camps, Lord Lindir. The three remaining ones are guards like any other. I see no reason at all to exempt women from border guard duties simply because they’re women.”

“And who, Lord Glorfindel, shall clean your rooms if the maids are going to defend the borders in the future? Or do you think that the Orcs will be scared by feather dusters?”

Glorfindel’s expression became unbearably arrogant. “I’m perfectly capable of cleaning my rooms myself, should the need arise, thank you, Lord Lindir. I need neither maids nor help for that task. Besides, I shall readily forego these comforts in favour of better protection of the borders. With all due respect to Lord Rhidawar, the Imladrin border defenses can, at best, be called sufficient. Everyone residing here can count themselves lucky that the Orcs have yet to find the weak points in your defensive strategy.”

“Which would be?” Erestor spoke up. His voice, he knew, was icy. Glorfindel looked at him.

“Your watchtowers are way too far apart. At the current point in time, the borders can only be protected by guards being constantly on the move between them. It would be much more efficient if the towers were closer to each other, so they could actually establish visual contact. Fires and wimples are all nice and well, but they have certain disadvantages. Amongst others, someone still needs to be alive to light the fire and fly the wimple.”

“And how are you going to prevent that?” Lindir shook his head in disbelief. “Are you going to appoint messengers, who run the moment a tower is attacked? Up until now, the Orcs have never managed to enter our lands without being noticed.”

“Which is my point exactly, Lord Lindir.” Glorfindel’s eyes were barely slits. Erestor directed an involuntary look at Heleth, who was sitting on the windowsill behind Certhdinen as usual, hackles raised. If one wanted to know the current mood in the council chamber, all one had to do was look at the cat. She was a very reliable marker.

“They managed to enter Imladrin lands at all. Events in Eryn Tithen have only cemented my opinion that your current system doesn’t afford enough protection. It’s too late when the settlement has to be defended. The Orcs have to be stopped before they ever catch sight of it.”

“And why would they have to? Our settlements are well-defended.”

Certhdinen put her chin in her hand and turned to her former protege. “Lord Lindir, reasonable as your objections may be, I’m afraid Lord Glorfindel is making a good case for his suggestion as well. I’ve thought many a time that the disadvantages are glaringly obvious. Once the Orcs know the location of one of our settlements, they’ll continue trying to attack it. And should the border guards not pay enough attention even one single time, there is no other guard before the settlements who could warn the Elves there of the approaching danger. And once the Orcs reach an unprepared settlement, the Elves there are lost.”

“Our men are good, but we all know that the settlers need time to prepare for battle. Lord Rhidawar has lamented this circumstance many a time, when he was once more forced to hold the Orcs back with a small group of guards, until the settlers were ready to join them,” Aeglirar added and nodded at Glorfindel. “A slightly unusual suggestion, Lord Glorfindel. I’m not wholly comfortable with sending our women to the borders, but I can see the advantages of doing so.”

“Which advantages? If I knew my mother is fighting against the Orcs, I should be frightened for her constantly! I would rather abandon my comrades than let anything happen to her.” Lindir pushed his hands on the table. “I cannot condone exposing mothers to such a danger. What is to become of the children, should the mother die?”

“Mothers could be exempted,” Certhdinen suggested. “Besides, Lord Lindir – I have seen your mother wield your father’s sword on several occasions.”

“That is only because he insists on her knowing how to use a sword. So she is prepared for the worst case,” Lindir said through his teeth and Erestor came to his help.

“I agree with Lord Lindir. Once exempting mothers from guard duty, what about the women who are planning to bond? We need children as much as we need more guards. How is that supposed to happen if the women are on guard duty at the borders? Are you going to separate newly bonded couples and run the risk of losing two Elves instead of one?”

“In my experience, this exact rule usually results in more children being born.” Glorfindel’s tone was dry. “Besides, Lord Erestor, how is that any different from sending a newly bonded man to defend the border? I also run the risk of him dying and his partner fading. The only real solution to that is proper and thorough training, which a woman can undertake as much as any man, and it raises the likelihood of both staying alive. Whichever of them is doing the fighting.”

“And what will other leaders think of Lord Elrond when he sends women to fight?” Lindir snapped and the Lord of the valley raised his eyebrows.

“I think I could well bear the king’s court disagreeing with me, Lord Lindir. Imladris is my responsibility, not the King’s. Regarding other leaders like King Oropher in Eryn Galen, I’m told he has quite a few women amongst his guards as well. Archers in particular.”

“I still doubt that the Imladrin women will be enjoy being sent to the borders by Lord Glorfindel.” Lindir crossed his arms.

“They don’t have to enjoy it. They have to do it.” The Gondoledhel sounded cold. “This is about protecting the Elves they love. I have seen women achieve astonishing feats in battle, which would have done any men proud. I cannot understand why you haven’t long since extended guard duty to the women. Even Lord Erestor’s mother learned how to use weapons. She would’ve been able to lead a group of soldiers herself without any difficulties.”

“Leave my mother out of this!” Erestor felt his face grow hot. The other councillors averted their faces. “Don’t you dare mention her. She used to thank the Valar on a daily basis that she wasn’t forced to fight any longer in Imladris.”

“I think Lord Glorfindel’s suggestion is a good one.”

Ferithil’s voice was more quiet than usual, but quite audible in the sudden silence after Erestor’s outburst. Tinnim looked at her and gave a slow nod.

“I agree with Lady Ferithil,” she said firmly. “I admit, I never thought about joining the guards myself, but I can wield a sword as well if needs be. Why shouldn’t I also do so when there is no immediate need?”

“Listening to you, one could think Imladris is about to be overrun by Orcs if our women don’t learn how to fight.” Lindir only appeared angry. Tinnim sighed.

“Of course that isn’t the case, Lindir. But I still see the advantages in Lord Glorfindel’s suggestion. We would double the number of potential guards, raise our levels of protection and maybe be able to stop something like the Fall of Eregion from happening.”

“What would it have changed if the women of Eregion had fought as well?” Erestor spoke quietly. He felt tired. Memories wanted to rise, but he kept them suppressed by sheer will. “Ost-in-Edhil was lost this way or that.”

“Yet the fleeing women and children, who were not carrying weapons and depended upon the soldiers protecting them, might have been safer.” Certhdinen appeared collected, although Erestor knew that she didn’t like recalling these events either. “Lord Erestor, you know as well as I do how many refugees died because the soldiers proved unable to withstand the sheer force of the attack. Even one Orc with a sword can cause a bloodbath in a group of unprotected Elves. And for the most part, it will be the women and children who are without weapons. I support Lord Glorfindel’s petition. Especially the women in the settlements can only profit from being trained to use weapons.”

Suddenly Erestor could only feel exhaustion. He put his head in his hands, and in front of his inner eye he saw Airondis, carrying his sword, killing two Orcs in cold blood. He knew his mother could fight if she had to. He had watched her eyes grow cold and menacing as she moved between Orcs like a blaze and cut them open.

He had hoped to spare his friends this knowledge. Ferithil and Tinnim … they hunted, yes. They could use bow and arrow, and if they had to, even a sword. But ever since it had been founded, the men had been the ones to protect Imladris from the Orcs. In Eregion, it had been the men who were drafted into the army. The thought of sending their girls and women to fight tied his stomach in a knot.

“Maybe we should put off deciding on Lord Glorfindel’s first petition for the time being,” Elrond’s voice broke into his thoughts. “I should very much like to discuss his second petition, appointing one council member as commander-in-chief to every settlement. Lord Glorfindel, with your permission we shall return to your petition regarding border duty in our next meeting.”

Erestor watched the lord nod, and he saw the short blaze of triumph in his eyes. He ground his teeth. That the petition had not immediately been rejected, had given Glorfindel a good advantage for further negotiations. He and Lindir would probably not be able to sway the other councillors after this.

* * *

Without admitting it, he had waited for the familiar knock at the door since leaving the council meeting three days ago. He had to talk to someone – someone who knew about Gondolin and its rules. Therefore he jumped up at once when he heard the knock and his name. He hurried to the door and opened it.

“Hengol.”

Thinferil’s voice was warm, gentle and loving, and she opened her arms to embrace Erestor. Grateful, he accepted the hug and let her hold him, maybe a few moments longer than was stricly proper. But who was to see them here, in his own house?

“Thinferil,” he said then, taking her hand. “I’m glad you’re unhurt. We worried when we heard about Eryn Tithen, and then that you were following the Orcs all by yourself.”

“Today’s Orcs aren’t what they used to be, Hengol.” Thinferil’s eyes twinkled before she grew serious. “Is Airondis here or with my niece?”

“She’s at Dinethar’s. I wanted to work, but she was so fidgety that I couldn’t keep her around.”

“You’re working at home? Does Lord Elrond not have a writing room for you?”

She was teasing and Erestor gratefully went along with it. “I’m afraid the capacities in the main house aren’t extensive enough for that. As long as Lord Elrond needs his writing room to himself, I have to work at home.”

She laughed. “Well, I’m quite grateful to be able to visit you here. I didn’t want to meet your new commander-in-chief, if I’m to be honest. Rhidawar had a lot to say about him, and very little of it was good. According to him, he almost bit your head off! Is that true?”

Erestor grimaced and led her into the parlour. While he was brewing tea, he told her everything that had happened. He didn’t have to keep anything from Thinferil. He could tell her everything, even those little slights he’d never tell Elrond about. Watching her face grow darker as he spoke about Glorfindel was like balm on his wounds. When he reached the last council meeting, her expression was thunderous. She kept sipping her tea silently, though.

He left her to think for while, but in the end he had to ask. “Thinferil?”

The woman who was as good as his aunt looked up. “Yes?”

Erestor gazed into his cup. “Was Airondis really a guard, back then in Gondolin?”

Silence.

“Why do you want to know, Hengol? Does it still matter?”

“Were you?”

Thinferil was silent. Erestor sighed. “Lord Glorfindel said during the council meeting that Airondis learned how to fight in Gondolin. I know she could use a sword, but I always thought Ada had taught her. On your journeys. Because there were so few of you that everyone needed to fight.”

It took a while, but he waited patiently until she answered. “Yes, Hengol. Both of us spent some time as guards in Gondolin. As did your aunts and your grandmothers.”

“My – but they were mothers!” Erestor looked up, shocked. Thinferil avoided his gaze.

“In Gondolin, that made no difference. Once the children had reached a certain age, the mothers were drafted again. As soon as they were old enough to be self-sufficient. Your aunts all were. Nende’s time as a guard was almost over when the attack came.”

They silenced.

“Lord Glorfindel spoke of Airondis, then. Did he say anything more about her?”

“Just that she learned how to fight in Gondolin. Thinferil, did she know Lord Glorfindel? Back then?”

“Gondolin wasn’t that big. Everyone knew everyone, at least by hearsay,” was her evasive reply and Erestor bit down on his tongue.

“I know that he knew who she is. He talked to Lord Elrond about her. About her and Ada and you.”

“About me?” Suddenly she looked ready to pounce. “What did he say about me?”

Erestor blinked. “Nothing. He asked about your old name, but Lord Elrond didn’t know it.”

Her tension subsided. Thinferil turned away. “Good.”

“Did you know him?” he asked and her shoulders stiffened.

“Hengol, I don’t want to talk about it. Gondolin was so long ago. Far too long.”

“So you did know him.”

She threw her hands up in the air and glared at him. “Erestor, he was the Lord of the House of the Golden Flower, councillor to King Turgon and Captain of Gondolin! Of course I ‘knew’ him! Just like everyone else in the city ‘knew’ him!”

“But he knows so much about Airondis! And he was so shocked when he met her for the first time! I’m almost sure he knew her back then!”

“Erestor! Your mother was known everywhere for her beauty! Just look at her, even now she’s more beautiful than most women! The women of Gondolin weren’t that much more beautiful than the ones in Imladris, but Ilinde, Airondis and Anerrine always drew attention, regardless where they went. Yes, he probably met Airondis one or two times. She got invited to feasts by nobles every now and then. Your grandfather disapproved, so he hardly ever permitted her to attend, but on a few occasions she simply went without asking for permission. She and Anerrine never wanted to admit that they didn’t fit in with those people.”

He fought with himself. Thinferil’s expression turned gentle and she stood, stepped up to him and embraced him. “Leave the old times be, Hengol. Airondis doesn’t remember, and I’m certain that Lord Glorfindel hardly spoke more than a few words with her, should they even have met. Maybe he also knew her because he knew your grandfather. Maybe he was at your grandparents’ house once and saw her there. He was a good friend of Lord Duilin of the House of the Swallow, and your grandfather was a bowmaker, Erestor. The best in all of Gondolin. There’s nothing strange about a captain knowing a goood bowmaker.”

“He knows something about her, I’m sure of that,” Erestor murmured and her arms wrapped around him more tightly.

“Whatever it may be, Hengol, it’s of no importance any longer. Even Lord Glorfindel will realise at some point that there’s no point in living in the past. His second life takes place here, in Imladris. Gondlin will face once he’s properly settled here.”

_‘Then why do you insist that there’s no connection between the two of them?’_


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As usual, please let me know if you find errors, and if you like it, please leave a comment or kudo!

“- and here is the last list.” Erestor heaved a deep sigh as Estelaer took the document from his hand and studied it diligently. Then he took a good look at the young woman.

She looked up, caught him and smiled in embarrassment. “Lord Erestor? Can I help you?”

“Are you looking forward to doing border guard duty?”

Estelaer lowered the document and thought for a few moments. Finally she sat down on a chair and folded her hands on her lap. “No,” she said simply. “I don’t. I’m not looking forward to fighting Orcs, and if I’m honest, I’m scared of the dark ever since … since Eregion.”

Erestor wanted to say something, but she made it first, looking at the floor. “But I still believe that it won’t hurt me to learn how to use a sword and defend myself and others. Maybe I’ll also conquer my fear of the dark when I’ve learned how to fight. Don’t you think, Lord Erestor? Weren’t you a soldier, back then in Eregion?”

He swallowed hard and nodded. “Yes. I was.”

She smiled crookedly and stood. “I know you were against sending the women to the borders, Lord Erestor. Many support you and Lord Lindir in this.”

“You apparently don’t,” it slipped out and Estelaer blushed and averted her gaze.

“I keep out of the debates, Lord Erestor!”

Erestor shook his head, more at himself than at the girl. “Estelaer, you don’t have to,” he said tiredly. “You are permitted to your own opinion. Who knows, maybe I’m the one in the wrong here.”

“Many of my friends don’t want to join the border guards,” the young scribe said shyly. “I understand why they don’t want to, Lord Erestor. But we don’t even know if we’ll even get sent to the borders after our training. And once we’re there, there’s no telling if we’ll even have to fight. But to be able to defend ourselves, all of us, isn’t that important? I want -”

She stopped and blushed more deeply. Erestor had to smile and gestured for her to continue. Estelaer took a deep breath.

“I want to do you and Lord Elrond honour, Lord Erestor,” she said and her eyes brightened. “You do so much for this valley and the Elves here, you work night and day to protect us. I want to do my share to protect your work and the Elves here. If I have to carry a sword, then so be it. But I want to shoulder my share of the burden.”

Erestor sat speechless. He couldn’t find words. Estelaer curtsied quickly, turned around and hurried from the room.

She left a very thoughtful advisor.

* * *

“Lindir, do you think we’re doing our women an injustice by keeping them away from the fighting?”

His friend stopped, put the folio down on a table and joined him. “What brought that on?” he asked, crossing his arms. Erestor sat down on Lindir’s writing desk and dangled his feet.

“I had a very – enlightening conversation with Estelaer concerning border guard duty for women yesterday,” he confessed. “She said that although she’s afraid, she still wants to fight with the other guards to make it easier for us councillors to protect the valley.”

Lindir snorted. “Just wait until she sees her first Orc close up.”

“Estelaer was already 75 when Eregion was destroyed,” Erestor murmured. “She’s seen plenty of Orcs before she was even properly grown.”

Lindir stayed silent. Erestor heaved a deep sigh. “The council has accepted the petition. We’ll see where it’ll lead.”

“You sound like you’re trying to convince yourself that the women won’t be fed up with getting drilled by Lord Glorfindel after two weeks at the most.” Lindir grimaced. “Nana for her share wasn’t impressed at all. She’d maybe have accepted being trained by Ada, but by Lord Glorfindel …”

“It’s not like Laervilui even qualifies.” Erestor bit down on his tongue when Lindir glared at him.

“What are you implying?”

Uncomfortable, he kneaded his hands. “Isn’t she pregnant?”

His friend glared at him in such a way that he almost felt reminded of Lord Glorfindel.

Then Lindir sagged and sighed a whole mountain off his heart. “She hasn’t said anything yet, but she’s acting like she already acted when she had Talchim and Acharvar. I’m almost certain she’s pregnant!” He grimaced. “Was that really necessary?”

Erestor could barely contain his laughter. His mother’s pregnancy appeared to really embarrass Lindir. “Isn’t it nice to have yet another sibling?” he tried to comfort and his friend shuddered.

“I’d prefer having my own children, Erestor. I’m almost 900, even Acharvar is over 500, and now my parents decide they want to have another child? Each of us could already have their own family.”

“But none of you does.” Erestor was too amused to sympathise with Lindir’s plight. “Why shouldn’t your parents then have another one? Imladris needs its children, every single one of them.”

Lindir sent him a glare. “You really don’t get it. This child was conceived while I was sleeping next door!” he accused Erestor.

“Why should I not get it? It isn’t exactly like my parents never lay with each other while I was sleeping next door.”

Lindir opened his mouth, another cutting comment already on his tongue. But he closed it again quickly and averted his gaze. “I’m sorry, Erestor,” he mumbled. “It would be mean to say that. I – I’m glad you’re still talking to me at all, if I’m honest.”

It hurt. Erestor swallowed hard. “Why shouldn’t I still be talking to you?”

Lindir threw his hands up in the air. “Erestor, let’s be honest here. I was being stupid, I said stupid things and was jealous of you for no reason, and I didn’t want to see what was in front of my eyes, that Tinnim isn’t interested in anyone. Do you think I haven’t noticed that you could tell I was avoiding you? I was more than glad that you stood up so decidedly to Lord Glorfindel. I wouldn’t have wanted to speak up against you.”

“Lindir, we’re both council members! We’re guaranteed not to agree on everything!”

“That’s be as it may, Erestor.” Lindir looked at him with dark eyes. “But I wasn’t certain whether our friendship would survive me supporting a different view at this point. I’ve wanted to apologise for you for quite some time, since the council meeting during which Lord Glorfindel first presented the petition, but I couldn’t find the right time. And I – Erestor, your friendship means a lot to me. You’re younger than me, but you’re so much wiser. Me, I only know about books and music. I can furnish a music room in Imladris and teach children how to play an instrument and sing, I can teach them how to read and write and the basics of what they need to know, but you’re the one who gives me the chance to do all of that. You and the others on the council are responsible for all of the important things. Certhdinen can advise because she’s so old and has so much experience. But me, I’m basically superfluous.”

Erestor couldn’t do anything but shake his head. Lindir sighed. “Certhdinen also says that it’s important that I keep teaching the children. But I don’t think they really learn that much during those few weeks in autumn and winter while they’re here. With some of them I get the impression that they even forget everything I taught them as soon as they’re back with their parents.”

Erestor was silent. Lindir picked up a quill and played with it absent-mindedly. “You know what we really need, Erestor? We need a house here in Imladris, or one in every big settlement, where the children regularly attend to be taught. Lord Elrond said that the children of lords and ladies receive lessons every day from the advisors of their fathers. But there are no children of lord and ladies here, after all, we’re the only ‘nobles’ around. There are only farmers’ children and refugees, who have to help their parents in the fields and on the farms every day. We taught ourselves by sticking close to one of the older councillors.”

He looked up, almost shyly. “Erestor, I would love to actually teach those children something. Most of them won’t ever pick up one of the books in this library if nobody forces them to. Well, what do we need them for then? Why do Certhdinen and I try so hard to make this a good library if nobody but the councillors and Lord Elrond and maybe a very few others are ever going to make use of it? And will our successors then have to pick up bits and pieces of what they need to know wherever they come across it, as we did? What will happen when the settlements grow even larger than they are now, and the village elders cannot take care of the administration by themselves any more? Eryn Tithen is already struggling, and there are two more settlements which will soon be equally large. Are we supposed to ride out to them to do their administration then as well?”

“I never thought about it, Lindir.” Erestor was surprised himself by his admission. Yet he suddenly knew that they were true. “We were all so busy trying to survive that we forgot about other things. In Ost-in-Edhil, everyone could attend lectures delivered by administrators and advisors in public buildings. You could take notes, and when you felt you were ready, you could apply in one of the big houses or to another advisor for a position.”

Lindir nodded. “That’s the same in Lindon,” he said quietly. “But don’t you see how unfair that is, Erestor? My mother taught me how to read and write and do calculations, and I learned the harp from our neighbour, who worked as a musician for a lady. These children out there in the settlements – with some of them I’m happy if I’ve managed to get them to properly hold a quill after a few weeks. That’s not enough! Imladris is finally getting some respect from other leaders because we’ve managed to survive and are getting important as trading partners. But as long as we cannot supply our own artists, poets and singers, they’ll continue regarding us as uncivilised Orcs.”

The phrase made Erestor laugh, but he quickly swallowed his amusement upon beholding Lindir’s expression. He reached out and put a hand on Lindir’s shoulder.

“You’re right,” he said quietly. “And if you like, we can work on a petition for the council about that. Lord Glorfindel isn’t the only one who can come up with new ideas.”

* * *

“Why, Lord Erestor, does a farmer need to know numbers?”

“I could equally ask, why does my scribe need to learn to fight for?”

“I knew you’d say that! Lord Erestor, it is time for you to simply accept that men and women can fight equally well!”

“I’m not saying it because I hink women fight less well than men, I’m saying it because your arguments regarding the border guard duy apply to Lord Lindir’s and my petition as well: Why wait until there is a shortage, before we take action?”

“And you call establishing a – whatever you wish to call it – a preventive measure? The border guard duty is about protecting the lives of the Elves entrusted to your care!”

“We should like to call it ‘House of Learning’, Lord Glorfindel, and yes, it is a preventive measure!” Erestor argued hotly. From the corner of his eye, he could see that the other councillors – excepting Lindir and Tinnim – appeared to be trying to contain their mirth at his and Glorfindel’s debate. Elrond, in any case, had long been holding a hand in front of his mouth, as if about to yawn. But his expression and the sparkle in his eyes indicated that tiredness was not at the root of this.

“Wasn’t it your idea to make each of us commander-in-chief to one of the settlements? Well, should the Orcs ever launch a big attack, a single day could see half or more of this council dead, and then who’s supposed to take our place? Who’ll aid our successors? Or do you really believe that your female guards can simply exchange sword for quill? It doesn’t quite work like that, Lord Glorfindel. Of course I cannot argue that this was the way it was done in Gondolin, unfortunately I have no the slightest idea what my mother learned there or here, but I shall remind you of your own words: That it hasn’t been tradition up until now doesn’t mean we cannot establish it as such.”

Lithuivren started coughing violently. Estelaer desperately hid behind a piece of parchment.

“And where do you propose to take the money from, with which you shall pay for all of this, Lord Erestor? Where do you propose to finde Elves to help Lord Lindir? Are you planning to take it upon yourself yet again?”

“Weren’t you the one who advised me to focus on my own duties?” Erestor replied pointedly, and Maethbron jumped up and hurried from the room. Heleth hissed at his back. “I don’t plan to interfere with Lady Certhdinen or Lord Lindir’s duties. For the time being, it would be enough to establish one House of Learning in Imladris and teach the children who live here or very close by. Maybe the mothers, who are after all not required to do guard duty, could also help Lord Lindir. And regarding the money – if you could be convinced to retrieve the arrows which your new female guards are so happily shooting into the bushes around the training yard, I believe we’d save enough money to build two rooms at least.”

Certhdinen burst out with laughter. “For this debate’s sake alone I vote for Lord Erestor and Lord Lindir’s petition! You are very convincing, Lord Erestor, I fully agree with you!”

Confused, Erestor sank back into his chair and wondered when he had gotten up and pushed his hands into the table.

Opposite to him, Glorfindel did the same. For the blink of an eye, their gazes met. A tiny, almost imperceptible smile appeared on Glorfindel’s face.

Erestor blushed hard. Quickly he looked at Elrond, who was clearing his throat and folding his hands. His expression was serious, but his eyes still sparkled. “Well, I admit that Lord Lindir and Lord Erestor’s petition does make a lot of sense. I do not like to remind anyone of it, but we cannot discount the possibility that this council will, in years to come, have to take on even more duties or need new members. For this reason alone, we should start early with training potential successors to our current councillors.”

“If you cut the budget for the border guards, all the plans will have to be written anew!” Glorfindel protested and Erestor dared look at him again. Storm clouded the blue eyes, and he did not look at Erestor.

Elrond held up a hand. “I should like to propose a compromise that will hopefully find everyone’s approval. I am happy to offer two of my private rooms to establish this House of Learning. As long as I don’t have a family, I don’t need five rooms to myself to bein with, and the two rooms on the west side I hardly enter into anyway.”

“That would not be forever, of course,” he added with a severe look. “Lord Erestor, Lord Lindir, please consult with Lady Ferithil on the plans for the new house. Lady Tinnim, compile a list with the names of the children of sufficient age. We have to replace the workforce their parents will lose by their attendance. Lord Ivorcharan, please prepare an estimation of how many workmen we will need to provide to counterbalance this. Lord Aeglirar, I know that you are still in contact with a few advisors in Lindon. Write to them and ask them whether they could be convinced to accept a post here in Imladris. Lady Certhdinen, please prepare a list with the most important skills a future scribe will need. I shall do my part by preparing a similar list covering important history and political situations.”

He put his hand on the table and smiled around sunnily. “I keep learning more and more about how to lead a settlement. Lord Lindir, Lord Erestor, thank you for this petition. I’m sure that we shall all benefit greatly from it someday. Once we have figured out the details, we shall consider how to turn them into practice.”

* * *

“Lord Erestor, Lord Lindir, my congratulations. Your petition is admirable, and Lord Erestor, you are becoming truly assertive.” Aeglirar shook their hands and laughed out loud. “I hesitate to admit it, Lord Erestor, but I truly believe you’re the only one in Imladris who can rile Lord Glorfindel up like that!”

“It’s truly amazing,” Ivorcharan agreed and stepped up to them. “One gets an impression of what he’s like on the battelfield when watching the both of you.”

Ferithil chuckled. “If Erestor were a horde of Orcs, they still wouldn’t be frightened by Lord Glorfindel.”

Loud laughter greeted that comment. Aeglirar shook a finger at her and winked. “Lady Ferithil, take a care! If Lord Glorfindel hears you saying that, he’s going to work you twice as hard during our next training session.”

Ferithil grimaced and the two older lords took their farewell, still laughing. The four younger councillors and their scribes remained. Lindir grinned at Erestor, exhausted. “Well, we did it. Although I should probably say, you did it.”

“Nonsense! I only -”

“You only yelled at Lord Glorfindel until he ran out of things to say?” Tinnim finished dryly and raised an eyebrow. “It was certainly impressive, Torlenn, without a question. Still, I’m not entirely convinced this is how this council should take decisions.”

“I think he was marvellous, Tin!” Ferithil protested, putting an arm around Erestor. “Come on, let’s go have lunch. I’m starving!”

“You’re mainly starving to tell everyone how Erestor triumphed over Lord Glorfindel!” Tinnim groaned, but followed them. Erestor smiled. Triumph felt amazing.

* * *

After lunch, he bid them goodbye and made his way to Dinethar’s house. Today, he would be working at home, and Airondis could play in the house. After such a morning, he could grant himself a little break.

Elated, he knocked on the door. Quick steps answered, then Dinethar opened the door. Erestor smiled at the young mother. “I don’t want to bother you, Dinethar. I just wanted to pick Airondis up. I’ll be working from home this afternoon, so she can stay with me.”

Her eyes went wide. “Oh – but Lord Erestor, Lord Glorfindel just came by to pick her up!”

Suddenly Erestor felt as if someone had punched him in the stomach. “What? Why – what is Lord Glorfindel doing with my mother?”

Dinethar blanched. “You didn’t know about it? Forgive me, Lord Erestor! I thought – when he came by the first time and asked to take her on a walk, he said you knew where he was – so I assumed that he, seeing as you spent so much time helping him, I assumed that he maybe out of gratitude -”

The arrogant lord and gratitude? Erestor felt sick.

“Do you know where he went with her?” he managed and Dinethar nodded hastily.

“They always walk in the gardens, most often near the little well behind the rose bushes. But – Lord Erestor, I can’t believe that he’s done anything to her! She’s always so happy when she sees him …”

Erestor stopped listening. He turned on his heel and hurried to the gardens. No, he too doubted that Glorfindel was planning to hurt Airondis – but he could sure make fun of her! She was so naive, so unspoiled, she wouldn’t even notice if she was being made a fool of, and he had gained such a victory over Glorfindel just today …!

He heard his mother’s laughter alread from far away and his steps slowed. It was -

“Glorfindel, you really should pay more attention!” the familiar voice teased. “What will they say if you walk through town drenched in water?”

“They’ll say that neither fire nor water scare me, Airondis.” Glorfindel’s voice was amused, full, nothing left of the harsh tone that Erestor knew so well. “And that I am well-mannered. After all, I saved a lady’s crown.”

Erestor stood as if frozen. He wouldn’t have been able to move even if he’d wanted to. Something had happened. He knew it. Something had happened, but he had not the slightest clue what it was.

Laughter. “A wreath of flowers, Glorfindel. I could’ve made another one.”

“Nonsense, you liked this one so well.”

Airondis’s voice turned soft. „Forget-me-nots always remind me of Felaforn’s eyes. Say, won’t he return soon? His time with the guards must be almost over.”

“I believe so.”

Erestor’s fists clenched. _‘Lies, lies!’_ he yelled inside, but he still could not move. His father would not return. Never again. How dare Glorfindel lie to his mother like this!

Steps came closer, someone rounded the corner. Erestor swayed. Airondis blinked at him in astonishment, then she smiled and gave a nod before she walked to a nearby rosebush to break off some of the flowers. On her head, crowning her carefully braided hair, was a slightly moist flower wreath of Forget-me-nots and ivy.

Without paying Erestor any more attention, she returned to the small pavilion. “Here, Glorfindel – let me make you one as well. Maybe that’ll distract people from your wet clothes.”

“That is very kind, Airondis, but you really mustn’t -”

“But I want to, Lord Glorfindel. Roses will suit you very well, especially these pink ones.”

Airondis’s tone of voice reminded Erestor of his childhood. Back then, she would also tell him off so decidedly. The corners of his eyes burned. Airondis was back – back in her own youth. In a time when Erestor didn’t even exist yet. Before the Fall of Gondolin. And the one who had accomplished it, had to be Glorfindel. The constantly grumpy, snappish Gondoledhel who made it his business to make Erestor’s life more difficult. With whom he’d had a shouting match just this morning which would entertain the whole of Imladris for weeks to come.

But even worse than that was the fact that he now had proof for his fears. Thinferil had kept it from him and Rithelion had been unable to answer, but now he had cruel proof of it. Airondis had known Glorfindel. They were talking like friends. Intimate friends. Like he and his friends did. They didn’t even use titles any more.

“Airondis, you’re exaggerating. Won’t Felaforn be jealous when he hears about this?”

A new bout of laughter. “Jealous of _you,_ Glorfindel?”

He joined the laughter. Shook out of his stupor, Erestor wrinkled his brow. He remembered well that his father had always kept an eye on who his mother was talking to; his parents had occasionally fought about that. By all appearances, his mother hadn’t taken his father’s feelings on the subject very seriousy. What kind of woman was the mother who had raised Erestor? Who was the Airondis he was seeing here for the first time?

The conversation inside the pavilion had calmed down meanwhile. They were chatting about roses, the colour of Glorfindel’s clothes and appropriate adornments.

Erestor had to breathe deeply for a few times, but then he had gathered his courage. Slowly he snuck up to the bushes. He knew about the little hole in them.

The picture which presented itself to him, was very peaceful. Glorfindel and Airondis sat on opposite benches, she was making another wreath, while he was watching her. He was, as a matter of fact, also drenched, but he hardly seemed to care. His eyes, now that Airondis was focusing on something else, rested on her with such an expression of longing that Erestor swallowed hard. This was the first time he saw such an expression on Glorfindel.

As if grown fast to the spot, he stayed where he was until the wreath slipped from Airondis’s fingers and she looked around, almost frightened. “Where -? Where -?” she stammered and Glorfindel quickly rose.

“Airondis, everything is well,” he said softly. “Do you recognise me?”

She stared at him and calmed down. “You’re a friend,” she said in the brittle voice Erestor had gotten so used to. “Erestor’s bright friend.”

“That’s right. Are you tired, Airondis? Shall we return? Erestor’s probably coming soon to pick you up, and then you can have dinner together and after that, you can go to sleep. Does that sound good?”

Airondis nodded. Her hands played with the fabric of her dress nervously. Glorfindel gently took one of them. “Airondis, come with me. Slowly and carefully. Give me your hand and we’ll return to Di Dinethar, agreed?”

She followed his gentle orders and Erestor hastily hid himself behind the rose bushes, from which Airondis had taken the roses earlier. Neither of the two even looked in his direction. Glorfindel was supporting and leading the woman. On his head sat a half-finished wreath of roses.

* * *

“Good evening, Airondis.” Erestor greeted his mother with a kiss to the cheek, and the old woman blinked in surprise.

“Who is he?” she asked Dinethar, standing beside her and looking embarrased, and Erestor had to swallow down tears. He often heard this question, but today it hurt especially badly.

“Erestor. I’m your son,” he said roughly and Airondis shook her head.

“I’ve never heard such a thing before!”

Yet she quietly went with him when he led her home by the hand, had dinner and lay down to sleep. She did cause half a flood when he bathed her, but Erestor didn’t reprimand her this time. Glorfindel had been drenched. Airondis apparently liked getting men wet. She loved water.

He refrained from going into the Hall of Fire afterwards. The probability of meeting Glorfindel there was literally zero, but he didn’t want to meet Elrond either. He didn’t want to answer questions. Truth be told, he didn’t want to see anyone.


	13. Cast and crew

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So for all those who keep getting confused by the many, many OCs in this fic, some information about who is who. I’ll try to keep it updated as the story progresses.

To begin with, the **Imladrin Council**. This graph gives you a good overview over what it looks like when Glorfindel first arrives, and how it changes after the official ceremony (very slight spoiler alert, but only until chapter 6):

Light blue indicates the old council members, dark blue the new ones and violet the scribes. In terms of responsibilities:

Erestor: chief councillor and stand-in for Elrond  
Aeglirar, Tinnim: general administration and diplomatic relations  
Ivorcharan: supplies  
Ferithil: buildings and maintenance  
Certhdinen, Lindir: library  
Rhidawar/Glorfindel: guards/army

**Imladrin citizens:**

Hervesmaed: Elrond’s cook/housekeeper  
Gwenglinn: Elrond’s seamstress  
Feriar: master of the stables  
Mirfuin: housemaid  
Dinethar: Airondis’ minder, married to Fuingael, mother of Gillos, Thinferil’s niece

**Main character relationships:**


End file.
